The Wives
by Iresol
Summary: A rewrite of my "Black Hawk Down" fic entitled "Israel" with an added emphasis on the relationship bewteen the wives and told in their POV, as well as issues going on with each of them and their husbands. Pre-Movie Hoot and Diana fic #8.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Ok, so I deleted the old version of this and am rewriting it cause I really did not like it at all. The story line will be similar and have a few detours, but hopefully you guys will enjoy it. So any input or advice is welcomed. Reviews too!_

**1. **

**Diana.**

**Three days before Christmas.**

It had been a very boring night. I mean really boring. Not only had we seen a total of four patients, three of them weren't even bleeding. Around ten Dante went to bed and the doctor on shift went down to OB to flirt with the nurses, while the other nurses went in the lounge and watched late night TV.

I planted my happy ass on a stretcher and worked on my contract.

In three months I'd be working in Israel. In a war zone babysitting some Congressman's wife. Oh joy. But there was a good chance there would be blood and gunplay, which meant Hazard Pay among other things.

So I flipped through the contract dotting my i's and crossing my t's when the secretary's voice came through the empty ER.

Well, kinda, there was a seven-year-old boy with broken arm sleeping three stretchers over.

"Diana…you got a minute? There's a couple women asking for you."

Kimberly, Amberly, or Tiffany, I could never remember her name. And had no desire to learn her name. In a week I'd be with my husband and extended family on base in North Carolina, far away from Georgia, be still my heart.

"What do they want?"

Her voice then came softer, "They said they need you. I think their Army wives too."

Well that did it. I balled up my twenty-four-page contract and put it in my back scrub pant pocket, then jogged out of the ER, towards her desk. Little Miss Teen America followed me, but not too closely. As if she were afraid she'd catch my bitchyness.

Sure enough out in the waiting room was Angela and a very round and pregnant Humera.

At the sight of me both women hopped up from the chairs and I motioned for them to follow me. I looked to Miss-Sweet-Thing, "I can handle this. Go back to painting your toe-nails."

Her eyes widened.

I really didn't care. I ushered my friends into the all but abandoned ER and Angela hissed out at me in a whisper that was pure panic, "We got in trouble."

God only knew.

I found a wheelie chair for Humera, who plopped right down on it and rested her olive hands upon her swollen belly. "What did you two do? Shop lift at the local Wal-Mart?"

Humera glowered at Angela.

Angela looked down at her feet.

I looked between the two of them, "Where's Steph?"

Humera's refined accent came out, "Hiding the body."

Again, I looked between the two of them. Humera was clearly pissed the hell off and at closer look she was disheveled. Her hair hung in strands around her face and there was a handprint on her wrist. Angela had a scratch mark on her face and a handprint on her neck. Her clothes looked dirty. "Body," was all I could manage.

Humera made a face.

Angela rolled her eyes, then gestured toward the ready to pop wife of Jeff Sanderson, "He was trying to kidnap her! What was I supposed to do, call 911? She's hardly a legal citizen."

"I am legal. I've dual citizenship here and in England. You over reacted."

"Next time I'll just let him kidnap you and take you home to be stoned then."

Oh perfect.

"Humera," I inquired.

We both looked to her whilst Angela hopped on the stretcher I had been seated upon mere minutes earlier. Humera glanced down at her nails that had blood and dirt beneath them.

I blew out a breath. Nothing was coming freely from her. She was terrified though, she was shaking and clinging to her unborn child as if her life depended on it. Angela fumed. I ran fingers through my ponytail, "Ok. How'd you do it?"

Matter-of-factly Angela replied, "Tire iron."

"Where is the tire iron?"

"Steph's getting rid of it."

I didn't dare ask if it was the tire iron Gordon had borrowed from Hoot. That would start a war in itself. I walked over to a cabinet and grabbed a plastic trash bag from beneath the boxes of rubber gloves. "Angela, go into the nurses lounge and into my locker, it's unlocked and there are clothes in there. Shower, toss everything you have on in there and your shoes, and bring the bag back." I pointed toward the open doorway, "Go. My locker has McKnight on it still."

Angela snatched the bag and off she went.

Thank God we weren't busy.

Once Angela had vanished I turned my gaze on Humera, "Is the baby ok?"

She nodded. Unable to take her hands off her stomach. She was clearly upset and I was now clearly an accomplice to whatever had happened. I was helping destroy evidence.

"Do you need an ultra-sound? Are you hurt in any way?"

She shook her head.

Getting her to open up was like getting Hoot into a dress. It wasn't happening. So I decided to go for bluntness. After a brief internal debate as to whether I wanted to know what had happened that night: I did.

"That man we saw at the airport. That was your brother, wasn't it?"

She did give me a nod.

"He's the one Angela killed?"

Again she gave me a nod.

"Dare I ask what happened?"

That perfect British accent sounded strained and she put her fingertips to her temple, "Let Angela tell you."


	2. Chapter 2

**2. **

**Angela.**

**Three days before Christmas.**

I had never killed anything before, ever. Forget another human being. Well…that wasn't true, I had killed the occasional fly. Never had I killed a human being. Never had I thought myself capable of killing another human being, even after everything fellow human beings had done to me.

But I had never seen a man look at a woman with such hatred as the man who had looked at Humera, a pregnant Humera at that.

I looked down at my painted toenails and made sure the man's blood was gone from my hands. From beneath my nails and in the crevices of my fingers.

There was a knock.

I jumped in the small shower stall and almost fell in the hot water.

Then came Diana's smooth kinda husky voice, "It's me. Unlock the door."

While I didn't panic, I darted from the shower, twisted the knob, and then darted back in the shower. Not wanting the supreme deity to see me naked.

I did peek out from behind the thin cloth curtain.

Diana came in and closed the door.

She looked to the bag of clothes on the floor, and then her clothes that were on the sink, and then to me. Her teal eyes looked tired, "What happened?"

I moved.

She held up a hand, "No. Let the water run. It'll cover our voices."

Good thinking.

I didn't tell her that though.

Instead I spoke in a lowered voice, "We were in the parking lot for the Wal-Mart when I noticed the flat tire. Humera put the bags in the car and I began to get the stuff to change the tire. Jack. Spare. Gloves…" She twirled a finger to urge me along.

I complied, "I heard her scream and had the tire iron in hand. I thought she had fallen, or was having a contraction. So I peeked around the car and this guy was there. He had slapped her and had a handful of her hair. He was trying to pull her away."

Her dark eyes narrowed, she was processing the information. Yet she was not surprised by my story or the violence.

"I told him to stop. I ran over and grabbed his hand that had her hair and he moved to hit me, so I swung my hand and…hit him, but I had the tire iron in my hand. I hit him really hard. He fell and…made a few noises, and that was it. All she kept saying was that they had found her, they'd ruin her life, and destroy Jeff. She was freaking out."

Something on Diana's face changed.

Her eyebrow narrowed and she asked, "Think she'll run away?"

**XXX**

I out of the lounge and into the ER in clothes that weren't mine and didn't fit. Diana had hips and an ass, I had neither. Plus she was shorter and her boobs were bigger. It looked like I was Skipper wearing Barbie's clothing.

My hair was wet and all I could think about was whether Diana had been right, had Humera run off.

Not a thought, concern, or feeling towards or about the man whose skull I had caved in with a tire iron.

I was such a bad person.

Oh, lets not forget the shoes. God forbid Diana wear normal flats. Oh no, I had five inch red pumps on beneath my jeans and black shirt that had a V deep enough to see the white lace on the bra that was two cup sizes too big.

She appeared from behind a curtain, a backpack over her shoulder, her ID card in hand: "She's gone. Lets go." I was instructed.

I hobbled after her and prayed I didn't snap my ankle like a twig.

Through the ER we went, briefly stopped by Miss. Teen America. "Where are you going?"

Diana paused, she gave the girl this look, as if she dare inquire where Diana was going.

"Family emergency. You have plenty of nurses. I better be paged for nothing less then four trauma's and a packed ER. Or organ harvest." And on we went. I hobbled after her as she spoke, "Ray told me she hurried out of here pretty quickly and left in a Red Mustang."

Stephanie's car.

I hurried after her out of the ER and into the night, "Where do you think she's going?"

Diana walked sure and steady in her nursing sneakers. Across the parking lot to Hoot's truck, "She's going back to base to get her stuff so she can run off."

How did she know these things?

But I did not ask, I waddled after her greatness and then had to haul myself into the truck. God forbid Hoot buy a normal vehicle, one that did not require a stepladder to get into. But I managed.

I looked around as she started it up, "Where's the bag?"

"Biohazard trash bin."

So that was her plan! The sly minx.

I hooked my belt up and she started the monster vehicle up, and off we went.


	3. Chapter 3

**3. **

**Stephanie.**

**Three days before Christmas.**

My car was parked in front of Humera and Jeff's base house. I parked Angela's expensive, newly washed car in front of my house where we were bunked together with our husbands.

For a moment I considered going over. Checking on my fellow army wife, not just army wife, but Special Forces wife, we had a special bond.

But she had been very upset.

She needed some time to herself.

I pocketed the car keys and turned to walk into the garage, hoping Randy was home, when the sound of Hoot's new truck wheeled down the street.

Which made me pause.

While I wanted nothing more then to just crawl into bed after a LONG shower, and forget I had helped cover up a crime and destroy evidence, something told me that something was wrong.

Something was afoot.

The truck stopped, turned off, and Diana hopped on out, Angela carefully climbed down, dressed clearly in Diana's clothing and designer pumps.

Both ran across the lawn and let themselves in the house.

My night could not possibly get any worse. I made sure my hoodie was up and hurried across the empty street and ran up the driveway.

I too let myself in the simple yet elegant home. There were lite pastel colors and a slight Mediterranean theme.

Ignoring everything in the house I followed the sound of noises. After Diana and Angela, who were in the doorway of the bedroom, Diana vocally admonishing Humera.

"Just where do you think you're _going_? You can't leave Jeff! Where are you going to go, you're eight and a half months pregnant."

Dear God, my fellow nurse was going to emotionally destroy Humera. I pushed between her and Angela and saw Humera holding a canvas bag, seated on the end of her and Jeff's bed. Which was just perfectly made.

I gave Diana a dirty look.

Sure, she was a far more experienced, well trained, and professional nurse then I, a mere floor nurse. After all she did the most critical and challenging traumas. But her patients didn't talk.

Her patients were on death's doorstep, and when they spoke they were sent to my floor.

I took a seat beside Humera on the bed and wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders. I kissed her cheek, "Humera, sweetie, it's ok to be scared. Tonight was a really bad night. But everything will be fine. We'll be moving back to North Carolina soon and no one will ever find out about that man, ever."

Diana gave me an equally dirty look as Humera began to cry.

'_She's pregnant_!' I mouthed.

Diana rolled her eyes and Angela made herself look small.

Diana rubbed her temples and I rubbed Humera's arm, softly I spoke against her ear, "Sweetie, they can't hurt you anymore. You're an American and a military wife now."

She trembled and heaved as she sobbed and buried her face in her shaking hands. Unable to stop.

Realizing it would be a long night Diana came and sat down on the other side of Humera. Thank the Lord our husbands were out training hours away. It would be a disaster if one walked in and saw Humera in such a hysteric state.

I could not lie well at all and Angela, forget it, Gordon could pretty much read her mind.

Diana, she could out lie Satan if she wanted. She was pretty slick and cunning.

"Humera, your family is all the way out in Jordan and you're here. How would they even know where you are? You told me they don't have a phone, how would your brother get in touch with them? He couldn't. It was a fluke that he even spotted you at the airport."

Angela eyed Diana and I prayed her reasoning was right on. Having Humera's family making an international stink was not good. Sure they had tried to kill her and all when it was found out she was playing informant for the American Army. They didn't even know she was alive, more less married to a American and having his child. I didn't even want to think about the many strings Jeff had pulled to get her made a citizen. That alone would get him in trouble. Then there was the whole shipping her over here in military cargo planes.

It was just a little abuse of power, or, "professional courtesy" as Randy had called it.

Humera lifted her eyes and narrowed them at Diana.

Who added, "Hell, they'll probably think it was the _violent American people_ who killed your brother."

Well that was partially true, but I was keeping my mouth shut, like usual.


	4. Chapter 4

**4. **

**Humera.**

**Two days before Christmas.**

Angela and I had some sort of bond. That wasn't saying Diana and I weren't close, we were. But I looked up to Diana and admired her. I never felt on equal footing with her even though we both had college degrees and were quite well read and educated.

Diana was always sure of herself. She came from a wonderful family and happy childhood. She had never been brutalized as Angela and I had been. That alone bonded me closer to Angela, who compared to myself was illiterate, and was someone I in a million years would never have associated with: had we not had that commonality between us.

She could look at me and completely understand how I felt at any given minute.

Then there was Stephanie, she was just so nice and kind and…normal. Of our close little group she was the blue-collar normal girl. Stephanie was great. It was just taking her some time to get accustomed to our eccentricities.

I watched both Diana and Stephanie exit my room and Angela sat down beside me, concern marked her lovely features. She patted my hair and looked into my tear filled eyes.

She did not speak or try to comfort me with words. Instead she merely stroked my hair and allowed me to cry until I fell asleep.

**Near Dawn…**

I awoke with Angela beside me on Jeff's side of the bed, wide-awake, unable to sleep in a tradition bed with frame and head/foot board. She was flipping through one of my home design magazines with mild interest. Her new portable cd player was in her ears as she tapped her barefoot to the beat of Annie Lennox, her latest favorite artist.

When I sat up she merely turned the page of her magazine. Her now violent color contacts glanced up at me from beneath her newly dyed crimson hair. She changed her hair color whenever mood striked her. It could be weekly, every three months, or twice a day.

It was the way she was and how she survived.

I concentrated on my home, cooking, gardening, cleaning, making myself the best wife I could: it was how I got through things.

My daughter kicked me. Letting me know she was awake and hungry. So I inched off the bed and managed to get to the bathroom to relieve myself, and then I headed down the hall and to the kitchen. I needed fruit. My daughter wanted the chicken wings that Jeff loved so dearly, but she didn't know what was good for her.

I grabbed an apple from the bamboo basket upon my spotless kitchen counter and heard Diana's voice coming from the back porch. She was talking to someone on the phone. I knew she wasn't talking to Stephanie. Stephanie was asleep on my living room couch.

I stepped up to the sliding glass door and listened through the crack, while I rubbed the apple, which I had already washed upon arrival home from the food store, on my shirt.

"…yes, the last name is Rubiaan, I need to find out just how many family members are left and whether or not they have been told of her location. They should think she's dead."

For fear the further cleaning of my apple would mask her conversation with who was likely a co-worker, in whatever private company she worked for. I never asked, I simply had never wanted to know. Whoever would hire her for her innate ability to be calculating and unaffected by mass quantities of blood did not seem like anyone I'd want to associate with.

She paced around, still in her scrubs and sneakers, rubbing her neck, which she did whenever she was tired.

I touched my own scalp. It was still tender.

A noise made me turn.

Angela cruised into the kitchen, cd player in one hand while she raided my fridge.

Diana then added to whomever she was speaking with, "Yes, both parents are dead, grandparents too. There should be a uncle left and his family."

Angela kicked the door closed and dropped a Dr. Pepper can on the island and a glass pan of artichoke and spinach dip. She then went on the hunt through my cupboard for the pita chips. While she bopped along looking for her breakfast I heard the front door open.

Jeff was home.


	5. Chapter 5

**5. **

**Diana.**

**Two days before Christmas.**

"Baby, what's wrong?"

There stood my husband somehow managing to look sexy in sweat pants with patches of black body paint on his neck and arms. In his hand was a Red Bull and judging from the state of his pupils it was not his first or third. Somehow it made me smile.

I dropped my backpack on the floor, walked over to him where he stood in our living room, TV remote in the other hand, in the process of turning on CNN like he did every morning. I sagged against him and used his bare chest as a pillow. "I'm exhausted," I told him.

In truth I was. I wanted nothing more then to curl up with him in bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

His lips brushed my forehead and the TV came on. He held me close and rocked me soothingly, "I got good news."

"Mmmm?"

His lips brushed over the top of my head again. "We all got our housin. We'll be movin back to Bragg a few weeks early."

A weight I hadn't known was there lifted. I sagged against him and he remained strong. He was my rock.

"I'll go tell your Daddy the good news an start packin right now."

I rested my chin on his chest and looked up at him, almost amused. He sipped the energy drink and informed me, "Baby it ain't that I don't just love yo Daddy an all, but, we should not be livin in the same house. I think he was sneakin my beer. That ain't right."

I was utterly speechless.

Hoot then added what was borderline genuine concern, "Cause, he's on that special diet an all."

I reached up and cupped his stubbly face between my palms. "When are we moving?"

"Day after Christmas. Jeff's callin the U-Haul people today. You know he can't sleep as soon as he gits in."

Which was true.

Sanderson had to wind down after getting home from lots of training before he could nap or go to bed. My husband, he'd go to sleep anywhere, anytime, anyplace.

"You sign that contract," he asked.

I shook my head and kissed him, "Half of it." I then stepped back and headed toward our bedroom, grabbing my backpack where said contract was. "Are you coming to bed?" I called from the hallway.

Hoot shouted back, "In'a minute. I wanna see what's goin on with the Holy Land an Kosovo, baby."

Of course he did.

So I went on into our bedroom and collapsed on our unmade bed. Compared to Humera's bedroom, our's looked like a pigpen. There were clothes hanging off the furniture and in piles to be put away. Paperwork scattered in piles at the foot of the bed on the floor. Not to mention the bottles of cold medicine that Hoot had been drinking like coffee mere days ago.

Too tired to clean I merely unzipped the pack, found the mass of paper, kicked the pack onto the floor, and grabbed a pen from my nightstand. I flipped through the contract and found where I had left off.

The doorbell chimed through the house.

I was so not getting out of bed under any circumstance. I began to sign my John Hancock and yelled, "I'm not moving!" So hopefully my husband would get the hint and answer the door. Unless the people at the door were going to walk around and chat with me through the bedroom window, I wasn't socializing.

The doorbell chimed yet again.

"Hoot!" I shouted and prayed he heard the tone in my voice.

I skimmed over the fine print and signed my name yet again, when my husband appeared in the bedroom doorway. Just as the phone began to ring.

"Honey, what was you doin last night?"

My eyes never left the contract, "Working. What were you doing last night?" I initialed at another spot and checked four boxes. Then I turned the page of the contract.

"What was Angela and Humera doin?"

My pen paused on the paper and I glanced up at him, "I dunno."

"Why they on the news then? An why's Jeff at the door? An I am guessin that's Gordon on the phone."

I slung the contract aside and bolted off the bed, down the hall, and came to a stop against the back of the couch where the morning news for Atlanta was mentioning a attack at the Wal-Mart by base, and two women. The video was on the TV and by the grace of God alone it was blurry and dark. "…local authorities have no leads other then one of the two women who were attacked appears to be pregnant. They are urging anyone who has seen these two women or know who they are to contact authorities. The car they left in appears to be a newer model dark colored compact car with a flat tire."

Then two people behind the news desk appeared and sent the segment over to the weatherman.

The knocked ceased an in came Jeff just as Hoot came up behind me. Jeff was not a happy man. Livid was the correct word. He took one look at me and demanded, "What happened last night? My wife won't tell me anything!"

Innocently, I held my hands to my chest, "I was not there. I just helped dispose of the evidence."

Behind me Hoot let out a deep breath, or a hiss. I wasn't sure.

Jeff's eyes widened more.

He then screeched, "Gordon told me his wife told him that she killed someone who was trying to kidnap my wife, and Randy's wife got rid of the body and cleaned my car!"

That sounded about right.

So much for keeping it under wraps.

"Steph hid a body? Where?"

I shrugged and told my husband, "I have no idea. That's just what Angela told me."

"How'd you contribute to this disaster?" Jeff demanded, about ready to loose his ever-loving mind.

I didn't really want to tell him, after all that would make him a co-conspirator. But he probably needed to know. "I got rid of Angela's clothing and cleaned her up. You probably should make sure Humera's ok. She was really freaking out about her family finding her."


	6. Chapter 6

**6. **

**Angela.**

**Two days before Christmas.**

"What's wrong," Gordon had simply asked when he had seen me come in the house and drop down in the armchair, exhausted and kinda guilty, but not really upset. I was more upset that it didn't bother me what I had done. Was my soul gone?

All he had done was give me that look of concern and I had spilled everything to him.

His eyes got wider and wider and wider until finally he went to the phone and called someone, someone who wasn't picking up. He hung up and tried another number, or the same number, it was too far away for me to be able to determine.

I, on the other hand, felt so much better.

When Stephanie strolled into the kitchen with what appeared to be an empty coffee mug in hand, Gordon hung up the phone. He turned to her and whatever look was on his face told her that he knew. She simply told him, "It's ok. Don't worry, nothing bad will happen to Angela."

He stiffened.

Then ran his fingers through his wet hair. He'd just gotten out of the shower, Randy was currently in there using the rest of our hot water.

"Did you tell Randy?"

I didn't tell a thing to Randy, that was not my job.

Stephanie shook her head, "It's need to know information."

Gordon's head whipped around to me. From his expression alone I knew he considered it need to know. He then made a face and grabbed the phone yet again. Before he dialed he spotted something out the window and hung the phone up. "Jeff's running over to Hoot's house," he declared.

He seemed to be at a loss for words.

Stephanie shot me a _what the hell_ look. Which I ignored. I could never lie to Gordon, ever. I just could never do it under any circumstance.

"Well you better go tell Randy cause by the way Jeff is fuming he knows," Gordon seethed in his bathrobe.

The pager on my hip began to vibrate.

I ignored it.

His hands curled, he was pretty upset. When he looked back at me he spoke in a very controlled tone, "Where are the girls?"

"At Tina's."

The sitter was watching them. I'd called her when I realized it would be an all night thing. It was a good thing I always pumped extra milk whenever she watched them for me.

"I wasn't going to pick them up till around ten when you were good and asleep."

Somehow he managed to smile at me, "Angela, I'm not going to be getting any sleep."

While he was handling the news very well, he was really upset. So I decided to give him a few minutes to collect himself and process what I had done. So I got up and left the house. I headed down the driveway and three houses down to Tina's.

Tina was married to a Ranger and pregnant with her first child. She babysat for me when I was out of sitters. She liked the practice.

Still in Diana's heels I knocked on her front door and looked around the still sleeping neighborhood. It was a weekend and very early. The sun wasn't quite up yet.

After a few moments she appeared at the door with a perky smile on her face.

Tina loved mornings.

"How were the girls," I asked while stepping inside the house.

"Wonderful! They went right to sleep after nine and are still asleep. It's a good thing you got here, I'm down to one last bottle of breast milk." She disappeared down the hall to get my seven month old daughters, still yakking, "I don't see how you lost all that baby weight so quickly Angela! Twins and you're smaller then before the girls."

I managed a smile.

I was about to tell her I couldn't gain weight if I tried and had only gained twelve pounds, much to the dismay of my doctor and Gordon. But I saw her TV was on and I saw the Wal-Mart video.

We had been caught on video!

I ran over and changed the channel and then ran after her to her nursery where my girls were asleep in a playpen, side by side.

Little mini picture images of Gordon.

"I'm gaining weight like a cow! I gained seven more pounds since my last appointment." She looked around and asked, "Is no one here to help you carry them?"

"Nope, I am fine."

She made a face but handed me my oldest by three minutes, who I placed on my hip, who began to wake up but set her head down on my chest. Tina then carefully handed me my other daughter. "Are you sure you don't need a hand?"

Stephanie's voice came from behind me, "Nope, we got them."

Tina seemed relieved.

She handed Stephanie my other baby and asked Stephanie how marriage was for her and Randy. Small talk while I hauled ass out of the nursery and down the hall.

Tina and Stephanie were good friends.

I ran over to the TV and flipped around to all the early morning news programs, needing to know just how much news we had made in the small town.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: Ok, so I have decided to re-write this and I may insert one or two of my one-shots in here and delete them. I have decided to do some cleaning up and tying some ends up. Input is welcome. _

**7. **

**Stephanie.**

**Two days before Christmas.**

After our escape from Tina's we stopped at Fay's and picked up Trey and Troy who had been out on a Boy Scout camping trip to earn their survival badge. Trey seemed pleased but Troy was complaining about a bug bite on his butt.

"Does this look infected? Please tell me it's not. I'm never going camping ever again. Why? Has the Boy Scouts of America's leader never heard of a Days Inn?"

While bouncing either Wendy or Whitney on my hip, I could never tell them apart. I could when they had been born. Diana had written their names on their little feet with a sharpie, I told Troy, "I'll look at it when we get back to the house."

Troy peeked down the front of his pants whilst we walked down the sidewalk.

Angela, visibly upset over something, had made it back to the house already.

I urged Troy along and then came to a stop while Trey continued walking along. Happy and content, humming the Boy Scout song to himself.

"It's all red. Oh my God! Mr. Winkie's going to fall off!"

With a calming breath that really wasn't that calming I spoke normally, "Troy. Mr. Winkie is not going to fall off. Where did you hear that term?"

He looked up at me with Randy's hazel eyes, "Uncle Hoot."

Why wasn't I surprised?

Wendy or Whitney made a noise and grabbed at my boob. "In a minute sweetie," I told her.

Troy eyed me. "Are you sure? You haven't been a nurse very long."

"Troy I was a nurse before I was a teacher." And now I was a nurse again. Not that teaching wasn't fun. It didn't challenge me the way I needed to be challenged, the pay sucked, and I couldn't deal with another idiot parent, parent who didn't care about their child, or parent who thought I was a babysitter. "I can promise you a bug bite will be red, painful and itchy: it will not make Mr. Winkie fall off."

The baby in my arm began to cry.

I smoothed my hand over her blonde hair, then placed my pinky in her mouth. She quieted down.

Eventually we made it back to the house. I gave Gordon his daughter as Troy asked his father, who was in deep conversation with Gordon, about Mr. Winkie. Which took both men by surprise.

Randy turned to Gordon with a hand upon his son's head, "We'll be right back."

Which didn't bother Gordon. His daughter was sucking on his finger like there was no tomorrow, he took the hint. He went off in the direction of their bedroom where the two cribs were.

I looked to Trey who was standing on the kitchen counter. Hunting for cereal. Still in the thermal underwear, polypro, and semi-cold weather camping clothing Randy had dressed him out in. Hiking boots too.

I walked over and plucked him from the counter, "How do pancakes sound?"

"Why that sounds superb," he declared.

At that we began to make breakfast.


	8. Chapter 8

_Authors Note: Ok, like previously stated, this chapter here will fill in for my one-shot, "My Sanderson Fic." Enjoy!_

**8.**

**Humera.**

**Two days before Christmas.**

My perfect life was in danger of coming apart.

A life we worked so hard to make happen, a life I had never dreamt of, or even visualized when I went to Oxford as a teenager, or when I had been called home upon my parents death and forbidden by my uncle to return to England.

My wonderful husband whom I never thought would be.

I was supposed to have wed some man my uncle knew and be his wife, a prisoner in their twisted view of what my religion was supposed to be. They were crazy, fanatical. On my face was a small scar, hidden in my hairline, from where my uncle had struck me, upon finding out I had been giving the American's information.

I could still remember clear as day that day, the day I was supposed to meet Hoot and give him information of men my uncle was housing.

_It had been the middle of summer, miserable. _

_I hated summer in the desert, even though it was a city. I had snuck into a coffeehouse and had gone into the very back, where no one would see me. Where the American had met me before. I trusted American's. I had attended school with them before my parents died. I knew whom my uncle was housing and I wanted vengeance._

_My uncle forbade me from returning to school, when it was required of a woman to be educated. He took my inheritance, another thing I was promised under by my God._

_He destroyed my religion and twisted it to his cruel ways. I hated him._

_But it wasn't Hoot who came that day. _

_It was a different man whom spotted my purple veil and sat down in the private curtained area. He was a tall and lanky tanned man. Hair all messy and dressed in clothing of a journalist. He was handsome in a way that was unique. His eyes were striking and his smile perfect._

_The moment I saw him I knew I would love him. He sat down and spoke to me in flawless Arabic, "__**I was sent here by Hoot. He told me to tell you that Arsenal won last week's match**__."_

_I knew he was truthful. I could see it in his eyes. Yet, I had to test him, I could see that was what he expected, "__**What was the score**__," I asked in return._

"_**26 to 6**__," he answered the safety question correctly._

_So I took his hand. It was calloused and warm. My action surprised him, women in my country were not so bold with foreign men, or unknown men, or men in general. To console him I told him, "__**I attended foreign schools as a child. When my parents died my father's brother ordered me back for the funeral, he has not allowed me to leave. He is the man you seek information about. And I will give you anything you want. I'll cut his throat if you wish**__."_

_At the time I was so angry._

_I hated being trapped, confined, unable to read, travel, or simply swim. I hated my life and wanted out. Killing my uncle would be suicide and I did not care in the least._

_He gripped my hand, "__**We'll never ask you to put your life in that kind of danger. I do need to ask you some things. But, do you need anything? Can I do anything to help you, or do anything to make it more bearable?**__"_

_Anything?_

"_**An issue of "Time" or "Newsweek" any magazine or newspaper with current events. I need to know what's going on out there**__." Immediately I told him, almost begging._

_**Several weeks later…**_

_For weeks I met with him. The blue eyed American instead of Hoot. He met me in the coffeehouse and brought me magazines, books, papers. He brought me gum and sunglasses that looked like they belonged to Hoot._

_Whenever something was happening in the area he warned me. He gave me money and a phone, for when I ran away. I had told him of my plan and he had promised to look into getting me a passport._

_One day after close to a month of informing on my uncle and his associates I was late to the coffeehouse. When I arrived he was there. The bruise on my face seemed less painful and my heart rose._

_I hid in the curtained booth where no one could see us, our spot._

"_**Who hit you**__," he demanded immediately._

_I took off the sunglasses and adjusted the scarf, making sure all my hair was inside and my neck was covered. "__**My uncle, we got in another fight. The man you are looking for. The old man from Yemen is coming in a matter of days by car. He's so nervous about it. I told him not to make such a fuss and he hit me. This man is a powerful man and it scares him.**__"_

_Blue eyes, Jeff, did not ask about the man, instead he wanted to know, "__**Does he hit you often?**__"_

_I lied, "__**No. He is just nervous about this man. He assumes there is a snitch around who keeps getting his associates arrested. I just happened to be standing close by.**__"_

_I did not tell Jeff that I had told my uncle it was Allah who was the snitch, and telling the American's where all the men were. _

"_**Does he suspect you?**__"_

"_**No! Never, he thinks I am a stupid girl.**__"_

_Jeff touched my hand. He cupped it softly, gently. He was so much stronger then me and my uncle, and I had no fear of him. I trusted him. Not because he was handsome and made my stomach flip-flop. There was just some good innate quality about him. "__**Is he still talking about marrying you off?**__"_

_Disgusted I sipped the coffee he had ordered for me. I nodded, "__**He's serious.**__"_

"_**When is he planning to marry you off?**__"_

_I shrugged, "__**I have no idea. He probably knows and won't tell me until the day before.**__"_

_It bothered Jeff._

_He thought it over. Then he gave me a squeeze and looked in my eyes, "__**I'll talk with my people. You won't have to marry him. I'll have a passport for you. I suggest the night we go after this man, you run. Run. I will arrange for a jeep or something to be left for you with gas. Money. I'll make reservations at a hotel around here for you if you need. Meet me here tomorrow and I'll have all this for you.**__"  
I stared in utter disbelief._

_Not that I didn't believe him, I did. Dare I hope? Could I have a future?_

"_**You don't belong here. You're too smart. Too beautiful. You deserve so much more then this. Just…hold on a day more.**__"_

_**A day later…**_

"_**Where are you going**__?"_

_I ignored my uncle and dug around my truck for my scarf. I did not mind wearing with when my parents were alive. When my life was good. When my choices were my own._

_He made me wear it._

"_**Out**__," I spat. _

_Upon finding my purple scarf I began to wrap it over my hair. But he grabbed my arm, I wrenched it free and turned to face him. My own room was no longer even sacred. He'd march in whenever he pleased._

"_**You went out yesterday. That is enough. You will stay home for today. I do not want people thinking you are loose or that I cannot control you.**__"_

_I fixed my scarf and wrapped it around my bare neck, "__**Don't flatter yourself, uncle.**__"_

_Again he hit me. He struck me so hard I stumbled and almost lost my balance. The pain was so sharp it made my eyes water and cheek sting like the devil. I blinked and grabbed the chair in my room to steady myself. I had a brief vision of breaking the chair over his head._

"_**You will respect and honor me! If it takes me years I will beat it into you!**__"_

_And he did._

_**Later that day…**_

_When I was able I snuck out. _

_I had to walk to town because my bicycle was gone. He had done something to it._

_It took me an hour to get to town._

_I was six hours late._

_When I stepped into the dark coffeehouse and didn't see Jeff my heart sank. I held my hand over my side which hurt beyond belief. It hurt to breath. I looked around the coffeehouse and then walked out._

_Back into the summer heat and sandy breeze._

_Across the street in the bustling market was Hoot. Watching me like a hawk. He touched his ear and pointed to the hotel down the street. I understood. I walked down the street and upon reaching the front of the hotel a tall man bumped into me, something fell into my hand._

_I jumped back._

_I didn't know the man, he didn't turn or say a word to me. When I looked down I saw it was a key._

_Hoot was there in the distance. He pointed to the hotel. Stupidly I showed him the key, he nodded and gestured again toward the hotel._

_I looked down at the key. 4J was written on it with a red marker. Ok, I could take a hint._

_**The Hotel Room…**_

_The room was old, simple, and had the old musty smell of cigars._

_On the bed was a black sea bag. It was huge and weighing the bed down. I locked the door and ran over to it. Undid the top and opened it up to see clothing, MREs, bundles of cash, maps, and a purse. I pulled it out and peeked in to see a Canadian passport. When I flipped it open I saw my old picture from my English drivers license. It made me tear up._

_From inside the purse something began to vibrate._

_Naturally I dumped the contents out and a cell phone fell out. Sweet Allah! I grabbed it and answered it in English, "Yes?"_

"_Humera? Are you ok?"_

_It was Jeff._

_My heart swelled and his voice alone made me feel safe, "I'm ok."_

_Jeff paused._

_He then told me, "How soon do you want to leave?" He was dead serious. "Do you want to leave now? Hoot will take you to the border. You don't have to stay here a minute longer."_

_I sagged down on the bed and it sank down a good eight inches. Before I could stop myself I asked, "Are you close? I want to thank you and say goodbye."_

"_I'll be there tonight," he told me._

_**A week later…**_

_A plan was in formulation for my escape to Germany. In three days there was a flight leaving from the makeshift base for supplies to Saudi Arabia. From there I would take a military plane to Italy and then to Germany, and from there I would be snuck out of the base and be free._

_For the week I had been housed in the hotel room. Jeff brought me food when he visited. Hoot brought my food when he asked for information. After we were together Jeff never asked me for information. _

_I wasn't his informant anymore._

_He would stay with me some nights and when he could on the afternoons._

_One afternoon someone knocked on the door._

_I climbed from the bed and set down my magazine, US NEWS, and walked to the door. I considered putting my scarf on, then decided against it. I shook out my hair and peeked through the peephole. The maid was there. So I opened the door, "__**Yes?**__"_

_The door slammed open and I stumbled back. I landed on my bottom and saw my two cousins enter the room. They saw me in my pants and camisole. They saw the sea bag Jeff had gotten me. _

_And then the screaming began._

_**A little later…**_

"_**You are the traitor! You insolent swine! You bitch! I'll kill you for this! Do you realize what you have done!**__"_

_For the past hour my uncle and cousins had gone between screaming and beating me. I no long cared. I yelled right back. Sure, I got slapped in return, but I was going to die anyway, why not go out with style._

"_**And you kept the company of a man! Numerous times! Don't deny it you slut, Amera saw him come and go! A European or American journalist! You whore! You have shamed yourself, your father, me, the family…**__"_

_I yelled right back._

"_**Oh stuff it! I haven't been a virgin since I was sixteen! And yes, I did sleep with him, and it was great! I did it multiple times! Not only that, but he was one of the American's I gave information to, for FREE! And I'd do it again!**__"_

_He screamed at me in wordless rage._

_Though my face was swollen, I smiled, and added, "__**I TOLD you to send me back to England, to my flat! I TOLD you I would cause you NOTHING but trouble! It is your fault you are in this mess you idiot! You're a fool!**__"_

_He attacked me._

_He shoved me back and I hit my head, and there was nothing but darkness for some amount of time…_

_I woke up when I was stabbed._

_I was no longed in my uncle's house. I was in the desert. I could taste the sand and feel it grimey in my wounds, in my mouth. I was stabbed again in the back, and then again._

_I was in so much pain I no longer felt a thing. _

_Nothing hurt anymore._

_I was rolled over and saw my cousin's face. I saw the bloody knife. Things got fuzzy in my eyes. As it began to get dark I saw him fall over. _

_**Later…**_

_I woke up. I don't even remember when I woke up. But I did and I had no idea where I was, what day it was, what time it was, and how I got wherever I was. I rolled my head around and saw sunlight. I saw some cots and dirt walls. I was in a small room._

_When I looked around for a closer inspection I saw my sea bag._

_When propped myself up I felt tape on my back. When I reached behind myself I felt bandages. Then I remembered why there were bandages._

The scars were still there.

There were three of them near my heart. Somehow the knife had missed my heart. I pulled on one of Jeff's t-shirts and hurried from the bedroom. I ran out of the house and across the street to Hoot and Diana's house as well as I could with my belly.

I just let myself in and heard Hoot and Jeff arguing with Diana over whether or not biohazard wastes were searched or not. When they saw me Jeff came over and helped me to their small kitchen table and Diana asked, "Are you thirsty? Hungry?"

"Water with ice, lots of ice, please."

Jeff sat down beside me and set his hand upon our child. I covered his hand with my own and met his beautiful eyes. He kissed my forehead and told me not to worry.

The Gary and Randy strolled on in whilst Diana got my water.


	9. Chapter 9

\/p>

**9.**

**Diana.**

**Two days before Christmas.**

This was all insane. 

I got Humera her glass of water and leant against the kitchen wall and listened as the men discussed exactly what they would do. It was surreal almost. They were just planning away like this was some sort of operation, not real life at hand.

And planning they did.

Within a matter of minutes there were plans set in motion to just what we were all going to do. It was a group effort mind you. Which was how I ended up with Jeff. In the cab of Hoot's truck on the hunt for the closest U-Haul place around. I apparently was unable to complete said task having not been able to nap just yet, or so I had been informed by my husband.

We were given our tasks and off we went.

While Jeff and I scoured North Georgia for enough U-Hauls to move all four of our growing families to North Carolina, along with packing supplies. Then we had to buy a new car for Angela and get all that paperwork taken care of. Not to mention all the other moving issues. All had to be worked out within a matter of hours so we could head to North Carolina before Humera or Angela were recognized from the tape.

Still, I worked on signing my contract while Jeff drove.

"So, assuming we get everything done by noonish, and that's a big assuming, then we'll pack our stuff and head for the hills by nighttime then we'll head for North Carolina tonight? Have I heard that correctly? Do you men know how long it took to move the households down here from North Carolina?"

Intent on the road whilst I concentrated on my contract. Feet up on the dashboard and big thermos of coffee between my thighs. Jeff drove with the skill of a race driver, at speeds that were probably not safe for the country road we were on. "No. But I'm sure you're going to tell me."

What a smartass.

I didn't look up from my contract, or over as I sipped said coffee. I did vocally inform my husband's best friend, "You know, Jeff, I don't let my husband talk to me like that."

"I guess it's a good thing I'm not your husband then now isn't it?"

I glanced over at him and gave him a dirty look.

He reached over for the coffee. Which I shared. He had been in far less places then my husband, so I wasn't going to catch anything weird from him. 

He sipped away at the expensive coffee I had stolen from Angela. Which she had bought in Hawaii.

"Yeah, bite me," I spat.

Jeff snickered and eventually handed me back the thermos that I put back, in its rightful place between my thighs, and then I went back to the writing. I blinked and tried to concentrate, but my eyes were getting heavy.

**The third U-Haul store…**

I followed Jeff inside, annoyed and tired.

"So, have you or any of your co-workers rented U-Hauls from this store and returned them in less the mint condition?" I asked of him rather nastily. To which Jeff rolled his eyes and led the way toward the counter of the front counter.

"I personally have never set foot in this U-Haul place," he informed me.

Whatever.

I followed him, sipping away at my coffee, contract still in hand. Upon him going up to the counter, I stood beside him, plopped my papers down, and went back to work signing away. 

Jeff had the nerve to grab the coffee upon telling the U-Haul lady, "I need to rent eight of your full size trucks."

While I signed away, having grabbed a pen, I heard her typing begin. Thank God. I could not stand going to another U-Haul place. No sooner had I begun to get through the page I had been on for the past twenty minutes.

"Sir? Excuse me sir?"

I ignored the woman behind us. Her voice did sound vaguely familiar though. I felt Jeff turn and then heard words that caught my interest. Which was not easy, just ask my husband.

"It is you. I remember you."

Ok, I had to look. I whipped my head around and say Sue Summers, investigative reporter for channel seven. She looked utterly shocked to see Jeff, who looked so not thrilled to see her.

"I'm sorry ma'am, you must have the wrong person in mind" he lied, even I could tell he was lying.

"No. It's you. I'll always remember you. I followed you from the last U-Haul place…"

Jeff was getting ready to bolt.

I however needed answers, "Who the hell are you?"

I probably was not being tactful. But I was running on 0 sleep. Tact was the first thing to go.

She reached in her bag and pulled out a tape recorder. Then she had the nerve to turn it on. Jeff grabbed my arm and hauled me away from the counter, contract and all. She ran after us, "Please, just a few words, sir. How long have you been in the Special Forces? Can you give me your Unit Designation? What's your real name?"

Oh there would be none of this!

I grabbed my hand back and whipped around, loudly shouting, not caring about the looks we were getting. "I don't know who you think you are, but you need to back the hell off and leave us alone."

Like that was going to work.

"Are you the wife? Do you have any information on the Special Forces? I'm doing a special report of Special Forces within the Army. Do you have any information on the attack by the Special Forces Soldiers down in Buckhead? Do you know any of them?"

Oh, like I was giving her anything.

My father taught me to hate and be distrustful of the press. I rolled my contract up and swatted her recorder away. I was about to tell her something but Jeff grabbed me around the waist and hauled me out of the store.


	10. Chapter 10

\/p>

_Authors Note: After causing series damage to my hand with a hot glassware dish and a wet sink, I have decided to add that in the story line as a precautionary tale. Let the glass-baking dish cool on the stove people. Safety first._

**10.**

**Angela.**

**Two days before Christmas.**

"Aunt Angela, I didn't know you had a tattoo. Does Uncle G know you have a tattoo? That's a very odd place to have a tattoo."

I was bent over the sink holding a dishtowel to my hemorrhaging hand. There was blood and glass everywhere. On the floor, the walls, on the glass that was all over the place. Apparently putting a hot glass plate in the sink to cool was not advisable.

I was so writing a nasty letter when my hands stopped bleeding.

"What is that? A turtle?"

Troy didn't notice the glass or blood, or chicken on the floor. He noticed the little sea turtle tattooed on my pelvic bone from the trip to Hawaii last year. I poked at it while I grit my teeth, trying to prevent the spilling of profanities.

"Uh-huh, would you be a dear and get me another dish towel."

Troy looked at the blood soaked one in my hands. Then followed the dripping blood to the floor. "You may need stitches, Auntie."

Yep, that was possible.

I maneuvered my bare feet around the many shards of glass as Trey came running in, box of Band-Aids and gauze with Neosporin in hand.

The dog had vanished at the sound of the glass exploding. It was like a gunshot indoors.

"Watch out for the glass Troy," I told him over my shoulder. He simply hopped on the counter and crawled over into the dining area. 

Trey began to open band aides and dump Neosporin on them when someone knocked on the door. I looked to Troy, who nodded and was off. The boys were great.

I then unwrapped my right index finger where there was a massive cut, deep and long across the pad of my finger. Trey made a face and squirted some cream on the gauze, put the medicated gauze on the oozing cut, and then covered it with a band aide.

That one might need stitches. Even I had to admit it. He gave me a look and I said, "Yeah I know, next finger."

We had my pinky and bird finger bandaged when Troy slid into the dining area. Eyes wide as tennis balls.

"There's a general at the door!"

I gave him a look.

A general.

Trey put three medicated band aides on the back of my wrist. Troy added, "A Marine General."

"What does he want," I asked. 

Why the hell would a Marine General be at our door? Maybe he was lost. Before I could ask Troy had darted to go ask.

"Is there even a Marine Base around here," Trey asked and I shrugged, then removed the towel from my left hand and sighed in relief. These cuts weren't deep, there were just dozens of them.

Trey continued to expertly bandage up my hand. Once done I told him to keep an eye on my girls, and then I went to go see what was going on at the front door.

We had packing to do.

But the front door was closed.

I peeked into the living room. The general was seated in civilian clothing on my couch. He had a polo shirt with the rank on his sleeves. He wasn't just any general. He was the Commandant of the Marine Corps.

I had the highest-ranking Marine Officer in my shared living room. Yet, I was not surprised.

Gently, I crossed my arms and inquired, "Can I help you sir?"

He looked over at me and stood. He had perfectly trimmed high and tight white hair, green eyes, he had definitely seen better days, but was in perfect shape for a sixty'ish year old man. "Yes ma'am. I am looking for Angela Gordon? Wife of Master Sergeant Gary I. Gordon."

I raised a bandaged hand, "That would be me sir."

The man stood and naturally I wanted to back up, away. Instead I backed into a wall and forced a smile. I was almost normal but not completely.

Troy's hand slid in my back pocket and relief filled me.

Then the commandant rocked my world.

"Angela, I'm your grandfather."


	11. Chapter 11

**11.**

**Stephanie.**

**Two days before Christmas.**

Randy held onto my hands and helped me down a steep stretch of hill in the forest, the same spot I had slipped and fell down last night, and effectively skinned my knee.

From ahead Hoot paused.

Eyes on the ground and the surrounding brush. Without any help he had led the way up to where I had buried the man. After they did what they did he led the way down, without any help from me.

It was almost scary.

Randy wasn't bothered in the least bit by it. That bugged me to. It was taking time getting used to the Randy I was in love with in high school. Inside he was the same quiet, intelligent and witty person from back then. 

The whole Special Forces thing took some getting used to.

Randy had never been violent.

Randy had never spoken with a raised voice.

Randy read books: real books, books about humanity and theology.

Randy was a father of two boys and a golden retriever puppy.

Randy was also a sniper. As in a person who went out and shot people with the intention of killing them. 

Randy was one of the most elite soldiers in the world, and one of the more deadly on a percentage scale.

It just didn't fit him in my eyes.

Hoot, sure, one look at him and you knew the man was dangerous and quite possibly demented.

Gordon, maybe, there was a glint of something dark in his eyes. Sure he looked like a surfer from California. And around Angela he appeared as harmless as a baby kitten. But there was this spark of something dangerous, borderline deadly in his ice blue eyes.

Jeff, sorta, the man was intelligent and well educated. But he had quite the temper and attitude on him. It was well hidden and rarely came out. But when his fuse was lit, there was no un-lighting it.

But Randy was never like these men.

Randy came from a wonderful home. A wonderful small town. I came from the small town too.

I clung to his strong and calloused hands as he led me through the forest. Which was so different then it was the other night. I was so distracted that when Randy came to a stop I bumped into him.

I wrapped my arms around his waist. Which was once slim and soft. Now it was slim and corded with layers of muscle. I clung to him. He held a finger to his lips as Hoot walked slowly and deliberately into the forest.

What were we doing?

We were in a national park.

Did they spot a deer or something?

I looked upward and then around, just in time to catch Gordon coming up behind us with his phone in hand. I tapped Randy's shoulder, he turned, and Gordon whispered, "What are waiting for?"

Randy sighed, "Hoot, its just Gordon." He then inquired, "The car's gone?"

"In pieces in the junk yard. Parts are even melted down. How's your end?"

"Fine," Hoot declared, he came up beside Gordon and grabbed his phone. Then cursed and hissed, "We ain't gettin no reception. My wife tried callin me an I can't call'er back."

He seemed genuinely perturbed.

The bond Hoot and Diana had was nothing short of amazing. They had chemistry coming out the butt.

"She's fine. She's with Sanderson," Randy commented.

Gordon grabbed the phone back.

"I have to call and check in with Angela first."

Their marriage, dear God, I didn't even want to probe into that tangled web of emotions and baggage. They were perfect for each other and that was God's Honest Truth.


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's Note: As you'll notice there is a significant jump in the time. But this goes into the Part 2 of my story. So enjoy and feel free, no, feel encouraged to review._

**Part 2:**

**12.**

**Humera.**

**March 15th.**

**Fort Bragg.**

I set Alexandria down in her crib as the phone rang and rang and rang. She had just nursed and had fallen asleep, finally. Unlike Angela's twins who slept hours on end like their mother, my daughter was like her father, first to rise.

Her soft back rose and fell in contentment and for a moment I was afraid I'd begin to cry again. 

I then covered her with the fleece blanket Angela had dyed and kissed her dark haired head.

The phone stopped ringing so I watched my daughter sleep for a few more moments. In the garden themed nursery Angela had painted in our three-bedroom base house.

Hands fell on my waist and I glanced up at Jeff. Dressed in jeans and a long sleeve Ron Jon Surf Shop t-shirt: his uniform for the office. He kissed my neck and for a few moments we watched her sleep in silence.

Quietly I inquired, "Will you be home for dinner, love?"

His strong arms wrapped around my small belly from the remaining baby weight. Then he kissed my ear. "I think so. I'll call if we run past sixteen hundred." He kissed my ear again and then my neck.

His hands spanned my waist and he kissed my neck. "I love you Mera." I smiled, turned my head and kissed him softly. 

**Half an hour later…**

Angela arrived with her girls. 

A portable car seat in each hand. Wendy in one and Whitney in the other, both asleep. 

How did she do it?

Something was wrong, I could tell just from the look on her face. I rose from my corner nook in the living room where I sat writing a letter to my penpal. "What's wrong Angela? You're all red."

She made an exasperated noise and set the two baby-holders down. Not even going to put them in the nursery first, that's how upset she was. She ran her fingers through her loose wavy crimson hair. She'd kept the color the same just had a loose perm done. In a week she'd probably have a bob.

"Gordon's all pissy. He _thinks_ I'm in touch with _another_ manager in DC. He thinks I have two managers and will be working twice as much now. He had the _nerve_ to read the phone bill! I don't know what for! He claimed I had been acting weird lately…so what if I had, I can, it's my right…bastard."

She had been acting kind of weird.

I went over to her in my winter skirt and sweater and unbelted Whitney, "Who are you calling up in DC so much?"

She gave me a look.

"Your grandfather," I filled in, she nodded and then I asked, "You didn't tell Gordon about him? Did you?"

She shook her head.

"Angela!"

She stomped her foot and then began to unbelt Wendy. "Fine. I know. We should be open and all that. But he will get upset and I don't want him to get upset. Gordon will get jealous or weird, he has completely taken on our life. Which is good. He's healing and all but…Jack, he didn't even know about me. He disowned the woman who gave birth to me when she became an addict. Gordon won't care. I…I don't know what to do and I can't tell him. He might stroke out."

I scooped up Whitney and held her to my chest. She was still so small and tiny. Her blonde hair in the cutest bob.

Her little ears pierced.

Dressed in clothes right off the runway.

"Maybe Gordon's protecting his family from his past?"

She gave me a look and then sighed. Rubbed the back of her neck and looked down at Wendy, "He is. God he can be so stubborn about the past sometimes. I know he has a right to be and all…I have no idea what I'm going to do with him."

I thought she needed to be telling Gordon before Gordon found out. But that was just me.

So I changed the subject, "Have you heard from Diana?"

She shook her head. "No. But we usually don't until she gets back. She's been gone about a week…she should be home at the end of the month I think. Unless another week long war erupts over there."

Then she sighed and peeked out the window, "Atleast we're home."


	13. Chapter 13

Test 2

**13.**

**Diana.**

**March 15th. **

**Somewhere in Israel.**

The door to our bedroom suite slammed and Dante, my coworker and fellow RN stormed in like a hurricane, he pointed to me where I lay combat napping in the bed, away from the window, just incase there was anymore shelling, one could never be too close.

"Girl! I'm gonna kill that man. I don't care if he one of them White House men!"

I blinked, looked at my watch, 11:00, I had a whole three hours of sleep, and sighed, "What'd the Chief of Foreign Affairs do now?"

Dante stomped his foot and showed me the blood sugar tester. "The son of a bitch is refusing to get tested and he's out there eating cheesecake."

I sat up.

It was our job to keep the non-compliant diabetic alive. The usual medical team refused to go with him because of his habits. They didn't want the liability. "Where's Wandell?"

Wandell was our doctor. We were the RNs.

"Hell if I know. He went downstairs when the shelling began to ask the bodyguards whether or not we'd be moving."

Good man.

So I slid from bed and pulled my hair back with a scrunchie. I popped in a piece of gum and motioned for Dante to follow me. He dutifully did. I walked out into the massive suite towards the television.

Roger's head was visible.

He was seated on the couch watching TV, eating cheesecake and drinking coffee. Not for long. I walked right up behind him and grabbed a handful of hair, and pulled him back, when he shrieked and his arm came back I twisted it and pinned it between my knee and the back of the couch. "Ok, poke him."

Dante quickly poked him with the sugar tester.

"Grab the cake," I then said.

Dante did and the coffee. He hurried to the window, opened it, and threw it out.

Roger had screamed for his bodyguards.

I yanked his head back and knelt forward so he was looking up at me. Dante read out his outrageous sugar reading.

"Roger. If Dante has to wake me up again because you are being non-complaint, I will medicate you to the extent you won't wake up until another medical team arrives."

He began to talk.

I slapped his face with my free hand. "I'm not done talking. Did you hear me finish? I did not. Now, the only two reasons that Dante needs to come and wake me up are if we get shelled again, or if it's my shift."

"I will have you fired." Roger seethed at me.

I laughed and smacked him again.

Then let go of him and went back to bed.

**A couple hours later…**

The entire room shook. The room shook so hard pieces of the ceiling fell on me while I slept, the power was gone, and the window's splintered.

Needless to say I got woken up.

Dante was screaming out in the suite and I stayed where I was.

Earthquake?

More shelling?

A bomb?

Then there was another loud noise, an explosion. The entire bedroom shook and I knew it was some sort of bomb. RPG? Something that needed further investigation and possible evacuation.

I put my feet down and found there was a hole in the floor. I was looking down through two floors.

That couldn't be good.

Oddly, I didn't hear any screams yet.

The bedroom door opened and Wandell appeared, he shouted, "Damn! The floors gone!"

I realized most the bedroom floor was gone. I wouldn't be able to make it to the door. He pointed to the balcony. I hopped off the bed on the other side and stepped through the shattered sliding glass door. Walked on the glass and debris covered concrete balcony. Glad I decided to sleep in my sneakers. From on the balcony I spotted men in the opposite building firing RPGs into our hotel.

Most likely at random rooms.

Hoping to hit members of the International Peace Delegation if I had my guess. I hurried up and stepped through the shattered sliding glass door of the suite.

Dante had a bag on his back.

Wandell had managed to grab one of our Go-Bags from the bedroom.

Roger was looking rather nervous. After all his bodyguards were MIA. "Where…just where are you three going? You have to stay with me."

It was then Dante, who rarely read contracts, cited ours to him. "Nope, sorry princess. We were paid to make sure you don't die due to your diabetes. Our contract is void in the event of any hostility that could lead to a conflict. Like this. In that event your bodyguards, wherever they are, will step in. The government only paid for medical care, not protection."

Sure, now he can remember a contract.

By the time Roger realized what that meant Wandell had the satellite phone out. I ran over to the safe that we had brought. We'd need our supplies.

"What am I supposed to do," Roger wanted to know.

I was about to tell him something, but the room above us was hit with an RPG, which sucked, a lot.

**Sometime later…**

I was coughing up blood, which was never a good sign. Plus I could hardly breathe. I didn't move cause I wasn't sure how much flooring was around me. Instead I pushed some of the ceiling off me and called out for Dante and Wandell.

Dante answered but Roger was screaming like a little girl.

As if he'd never been so close to an RPG explosion before. What a sissy.

A hand grabbed my foot.

I lifted my head and saw Wandell.

He had crawled over, phone still in hand and Go-Bag on his shoulder, "I think we should leave." He was covered with dust and ash though. Plus there was the distinct smell of smoke. He gave me a scarf and I sat up. A feeling a pain came from my side. Broken ribs. I wrapped the scarf around my nose and mouth, so not to inhale anything.

After a moment I crawled after Wandell.

If the flooring held him it would hold me.

Finding then that I had a nice and long cut on my wrist. And I was pretty bruised. Other then that I was alive, which was a good thing.


	14. Chapter 14

1

**14.**

**Angela.**

**March 15th.**

**Fort Bragg. **

"Angela look…there is someone by the car…do you know that woman? Is she a friend? Is she Holly?"

The woman outside my car was not a friend.

She was not Holly.

Infact, I had no earthly idea who she was, or why she was taking pictures of my plates and base car sticker. I pushed my cart over to Humera which had both my girls in their removable car seats. Humera had the cart with the food, and Alexandria in a sling.

With Diana gone I had to be the defiant one. Plus, it was my car.

Plus it was a woman, a low risk.

"I'll go see. If I give a thumbs up bring the groceries. If I do a thumbs down take my girls in the store and wait."

Concerned, Humera raised an eyebrow, "What about you?"

"Gordon gave me a taser."

It was grand.

Then I slung my black leather D&G purse over my shoulder, and headed off across the parking lot. I slunk over and noted she was peeking in my windows. She was a very nosey woman.

So I slid my hand in my purse and held onto my taser, just in case.

I approached her and my new car, "Can I help you ma'am?"

Making sure there was enough distance between us. Should she turn out to be evil.

The woman looked up.

She looked maybe forty. Tall, in casual chic clothing. Cream pants and a pumpkin color sweater. Dark hair pulled up in a bun. She gave me her attention, "Is this your car?"

I nodded.

She then pulled out a pad and pencil, "Could I have your name please?"

There was something seriously wrong with this woman.

I didn't know what she was after, so I didn't know if she was dangerous or not just yet.

"Who are you?"

She then reached into her bag and pulled out a business card. Sue Summers was on it. Why was that name so familiar?

Investigative Reporter?

"What are you investigating Ms. Summers?"

Her answer would determine the signal I sent Humera.

"Special Forces and their home life. I have a theory that there is a high divorce rate among Special Forces married couples…" I gave Humera the thumbs down. "I would much appreciate it if you could give me any names of wives of such men?"

I shrugged, "Sorry. I don't know any."

"Perhaps you could help me. You are an Army Wife?"

Well I couldn't exactly deny it now could I? I smiled, "Have a nice day ma'am."

**Inside the J&J…**

"What does she want?"

I took my spot beside Humera at the front of the store, peeking out the window while Sue Summers investigated my car.

"To interview Special Forces Wives."

Humera made a face.

"I know…I'm going to go have security chase her away."

**That afternoon…**

Just as I set Wendy down in the playpen Gordon appeared in the living room. He held up the small black pager.

I had paged him as soon as I had gotten home, a good twenty minutes ago. No matter what was going on between us he never neglected me and I loved him for it.

Whitney wiggled her way over to her sister.

"What's wrong?"

I stood and wiped baby drool on my jeans, "There was a reporter nosing around my car at the food store today. She took down my tag number and base id number. She wants to chat with us _wives_." I then handed him her business card and he frowned.

"Sue Summers? She works for Fox News. Did she ask you anything?"

I shook my head and patted his arm when I walked past him. He gently grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.

"No, she never got the chance."

His blue eyes searched mine and he softly kissed my lips. Then again and again until I slowly, softly kissed him in return. I sagged against his strong body as he ended the gentle kiss. "I love you," he told me. To which I smiled and kissed him once more. "I'll be home tonight and we can talk, ok?"

I nodded and kissed him once more.

I loved my husband. How many wives could honestly and truthfully say that? He went over to the girls and kissed them both, and then he kissed me one last time before he left, business card in hand.


	15. Chapter 15

Study Guide Chapter 16 -- Male Offenders

**15.**

**Stephanie.**

**March 15th.**

**Fort Bragg. **

Trey and Troy ran down the grassy knoll and into the park while I plopped down on a bench and relaxed. Sophie ran after them barking and playing, on her harness and leash, a mere 4 months old.

They had just gotten out of school and I had just gotten off work.

They needed to blow off steam and I needed to relax.

No sooner had I sat down on the bench, did some woman in a white suit stroll on over to me,

She sat down and gave me the biggest smile ever, and then held out her hand, "Hi, I'm Sue."

She seemed nice enough. I shook her hand and shouted over to Trey and Troy, "Stay away from the docks!"

They couldn't swim.

I then looked back to Sue, "Stephanie."

She gave me a smile. "You must be new to town. I've never seen you around these parts before. You work over at the hospital right?"

Granted I was in scrubs.

And she could have been a frequent visitor of the park. Even though she didn't seem like a dog person to me. I gave her the benefit of the doubt, with a quick glance over Trey and Troy, who were playing with Sophie, "Yep. We just moved on base a couple months ago."

Sophie ran around the dock. When it moved she hopped off. Good dog.

"Really? From where?"

Trey ran around her and Troy grabbed a stick to toss. "Georgia. We used to live on base but when the renovations began we were relocated. Now we're back." I gave her a smile.

She gave me one back, "You're a nurse in the Army?"

God no.

With a shake of my head I glanced back at the twins, who weren't chasing Sophie, who was chasing a stick.

"No, my husband is in the Army."

"What does he do?"

And then, I told her the lie I told everyone else, including my parents, the lie I had told my closest friends, relatives, and even my preacher: the lie Randy told me I had to tell for our protection.

"_Stephanie, I'm in the Special Forces."_

_It had been as sudden and unexpected as that. I had asked him if he wanted any cream in his coffee, and that was the answer I got._

_I turned and stared._

_I mean open mouth gaping. _

_Not shocked because we had just been to the funeral of a close mutual friend. Or shocked because the Randy I hadn't seen since high school had showed up looking like a really tanned and gorgeous long haired stud with an amazing body and those stunning thoughtful eyes._

_Or the profession that he still loved me after all the years._

_No, I was staring cause I had seen "Dateline" and had learned all I ever wanted to know about the Special Forces and more, too much actually. And now one of them was sitting so calmly at my dining room kitchen nook._

_Waiting for his coffee._

_Black coffee._

"_Excuse me," was what managed to come from my suddenly speechless lips._

"Randy is a programmer. He is a God with a computer."

It wasn't a complete lie. Randy was great with gadgets and electronic stuff. He could even set the VCR clock. An amazing feat in my book.

"Have you been married long?"

"_What do you mean you're in the Special Forces? You said you programmed computers for the Army. Has that been a lie all these years?"_

_He looked at me so sincerely from the table._

"_No. It's what I have to tell people. I needed to tell you, to let you know what I do, who I am, before you decide on whether you want to move to North Carolina with me. I needed you to know so this wouldn't start out on a lie."_

"We've been married a little over two years now."

When I looked back at my boys I sensed trouble. There was another boy. A larger boy.

Every maternal instinct kicked up, but Trey seemed to be calm, relaxed even. Troy was busy tying his shoelace.

"That's so sweet."

I turned my head for one second and heard a scream.

When I looked back Trey was on the ground, on his butt, and the larger boy had his dog-tags.

Well that just would not do.

I stood up as Troy did so, no sooner had I yelled did Troy punch the larger kid in the nose with a beautiful right hook. Aimed upwards since the kid was a good half a foot taller. A few seconds later blood began to drip out.

My son broke some fat kids nose with one blow.

Oddly, I felt proud.

I was so going to screw these two perfect boys up.

**Half an hour later…**

"So I'm not allowed to use violence in order to defend my brother, however, I am not in trouble? That's so contradictory!"

I gave Troy a look from the garage door as Trey went in our house with Sophie. He seemed both confused and outraged.

I rolled my eyes and pointed into the open doorway, "You cannot use violence as a first resort. You should have tried talking first."

Even more confused, he stepped in the doorway and informed me, "I did warn the nasty civilian brat."

"Threatening is different from talking Troy."

"But I'm not being punished. I'm being enrolled in kick-boxing, so I'm not in trouble per-say."

I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

Then came Randy's husky voice from the hallway, "Trouble for what?"

Troy gave me a worried look.

I gave him a wink and then stepped into the hallway, into the house, closing the garage door behind us. While Troy tried his darndest to change the subject, I kicked my clogs off.

Our house was definitely not artistically decorated like Angela's, or a shrine to the simplicity of the Mediterranean like Humera's. It was lived in. It was a comfortable home. Everything pretty much matched, but it had a nice and warm feeling to it.

From somewhere in the house Sophie barked.

Then SpongeBob Square pants echoed through the house. Troy darted past his father and down the hall, in his sneakers. Which were probably coated with grass from the park.

Randy looked to me and I sagged into his arms. I kissed his neck and buried my face in his shoulder.

"How was your day, baby," he murmured against my ear, which made me laugh. Ears were always a sensitive place for me.

He peeked over his shoulder and down the hall.

Then he looked to me, "They're watching TV." He then wiggled his eyebrows and pulled me into the closet.


	16. Chapter 16

Test 2

_Author's Note: Ok, so occasionally there will be one of these chapters to get the point of view from the boys. So it won't be marked as any narrator. Hope it's not too confusing. Also, this version won't have Eversman as an Operator since it has Randy and Gordon, that would not go with the timeline, which I've goofed a little, but that would be a major goof. Anywho! Enjoy!_

**16.**

**March 15th.**

**Fort Bragg. **

Sergeant Jeff Sanderson was three steps away from his truck when his beeper went off. It buzzed against his hip and he looked upwards. It figured, the minute he got off and was heading home he got beeped.

Three cars over Hoot began to swear.

Which made him smile.

"With a mouth like that you belong in the Navy, Gibson," he observed, backing away from his cobalt Ford and heading toward the _office_.

Hoot met him and held the door open for him. Muttering about the many training missions they had been on in the past month, and how he had a big steak in his fridge that was just calling his name, and had a date with the grill.

"My wife was going to have dinner for me too. So just keep your mouth shut and this might get done in less then an hour, whatever it is."

The two men walked almost side by side.

Swiping their ID cards in the wall machines in order to open doors where needed, they waved to various men, and continued toward their destination. A desk. Where a thirty something female in khaki pants and a blue sweater sat, headset on her head.

Sanderson stood in front of her desk while Hoot sat on the corner and brandished his pager like a weapon.

She pointed over her shoulder, "Room four. The colonel is waiting."

Hoot perked up and looked to Sanderson.

Who in turn patted his friend's broad back, "There you go. Now you have a purpose."

As the two men headed around her desk and toward the room, she rolled her eyes and shook her head, sighing as they went. Having dealt with the two of them on more then one occasion.

They walked into room four and closed the door behind them. Taking a seat at one of the room's four tables with two chairs each, the front table. Across from the table that had Griz spread out. Bottom planted in the chair and legs thrown casually on the table. He and the Colonel Ho were chatting about previous missions to the Holy Land, and the sights.

Griz sipped his Sprite.

Colonel Ho checked his watch, "That was quick Gibson. I figured you'd be halfway home dreaming about the T-bone."

"I's almost to my truck dreamin bout that steak," Hoot corrected.

Sanderson rolled his eyes and grabbed the file on the table. He flipped it open, looked at the picture of the Chief of Foreign Affairs, closed it, and said, "Let the SEALs have this one."

Griz smirked and Hoot snatched the file, Colonel Ho sighed, "They gave it to us." Which drew a giggle from Griz, a sigh from Sanderson, and an outraged shriek from Hoot, who then closed the file, stood, and announced, "I'm goin home to eat my steak. Whoever's got the Chief a Foreign Affairs, let'em have him, hell, let'em kill'im. Don't worry, they'll be send'em home soon. The man's an ass."

Ho rubbed the bridge of his nose, "Ordinarily, I'd agree."

"Super, let the Marine's have it," Jeff offered.

Hoot nodded, "They're so understanden, an wanten to do more urban warfare stuff. Plus they haven't had to deal with Roger yet. They should."

"Sergeant Gibson, sit down."

Hoot sat, not happily though.

"The Israeli's need some help with this. They were holding international peace talks. The hotel that was housing the majority of these diplomats, including ours, was attacked today by RPGs. A number of the diplomats were killed, some managed to escape, and Roger managed to do so."

Sanderson immediately spoke up, "Well, its good for him to be in the environment. It'll help him understand the situation over there better. It'll humble him."

Which drew a vigorous nod from Hoot.

Loosing his patience, Ho plopped down on the stool in the front of the room. He nodded and added, "Look guys. The man is an asshole. I understand. If he was the only person you'd be going in after, I'd seriously consider sending this back to the Navy or the Marines."

At that Sanderson and Hoot seemed to simmer back a tad. Hoot slouched down in his chair and crossed his arms.

"Roger managed to escape only because he followed out contractors. His bodyguards were killed and his medical team fled. We know all three of the contractors are alive because they've been chipped. We have a constant feed on their location within ten feet."

Having all three of their complete attentions, Ho continued, "We've worked with them many times. There are three of them. Two males and one female. From their direction they appear to be heading south towards Egypt. Jordan and Lebanon have closed their borders and there are pockets of fighting in the West Bank. The surviving diplomats are being hunted by both the Israeli's and the bomber."

Jeff raised his hand.

"Three separate groups have claimed responsibility for the attack. We're not sure which one is credible yet."

Jeff lowered his hand.

Hoot inquired, "How do you know they're headin for Egypt?"

While Jeff grabbed the file from Hoot and began to look through it with interest, Ho replied, "The news about the three contractors just came out. I have been in touch with the company they work for, which is the same company that your wife is employed through Gibson, and they shared several of the escape plans. Judging by the current situation to the east and north, they'll either try to get a boat and head west, or south. Since they all have injuries the south is most likely, and safer. Plus the company has a location in Egypt where they could seek refuge and then head home. But, due to the violence that's erupted and the immediate danger to the Chief of Foreign Affair's life, a rescue is being called for."


	17. Chapter 17

Study Guide Chapter 17 -- Juvenile Offenders

**17.**

**Humera.**

**March 15th.**

**Fort Bragg. **

The phone rang and when I saw the number I knew Jeff would not be home for dinner. Or home for a while. I picked up the phone and put it to my ear, "Yes love?"

I heard him smile and sigh over the phone, "Hey beautiful. I have to go out. I'll call you when I get back."

He would only call me when he got back.

Never did he call whilst he was away at work. Never. As if he were a different person then when he was at home with us. I glanced over at Alexandria who lay upon her stomach on a quilt on the floor. Safely enclosed in a playpen. So loved and cherished by the both of us. "Do you need me to bring you anything?"

"No. I have everything here. I shouldn't be long though. I'll probably be back before Saturday. I have to go, I love you."

"I love you too," I told him and then softly hung up the phone. Took a deep breath and looked back at my infant daughter. Upon looking at her a familiar face appeared on the TV screen above her dark haired head.

On "World News" out of New York.

It was my uncle.

I stepped closer until I heard his voice, hoarse from years of smoking. In his hand was a picture of me.

"…niece Humera Rubiaan, she was kidnapped from our home in Georgia by an American man. I have come to find her. My son had come previously and I have lost him as well. I must find her and my son."

The world began to go dark and then the blackness pulled me in.

**Later…**

"Humera…Humera…Humera can you hear me? Humera?"

Someone was calling my name.

I managed to open my eyes.

Angela was looking down at me with concern in her eye. Real concern. She held my head between her legs and glanced up, "Her eyes look ok."

I turned my head.

Gordon was on the phone, "No, I believe she just fainted. She has a infant daughter though and is still breast feeding…"

Heavens he was on the phone with the ambulance. I tried to sit up but Angela held me down. So I spoke aloud, "I don't need an ambulance Gary. I'm well." I was well physically, mentally I had no clue.

"She must have fainted when she saw the TV," Angela told her lover. Which made me look up with complete horror, "You saw him on the news?"

Angela nodded, "Why do you think we came over?" She then looked over to Gordon, "Tell them to come to our home. Then pack up Alexandria. Humera isn't staying alone tonight."


	18. Chapter 18

Computer Ethics

_Authors Note: Ok, since I am working on this while I type up my paper for my Latin American Class on Infectious Diseases, I've decided to put that in here, or a illness anyway, I might as well use this knowledge I have been obtaining right? Anywho, enjoy and review!_

**18.**

**Diana.**

**March 17th.**

**Israel. **

We were all filthy, smelly, dirty, smoky, bloody, and exhausted when we crawled into the bed of the No-Tell Motel. For what felt like days we had been playing strategic hide and seek from the people trying to hunt down Roger. They were scouring the streets like there was no tomorrow looking for the man. Since the bombing we hadn't got a minute of shut-eye. I needed a few minutes to nap. So I didn't notice that the room smelled like ass.

I didn't notice that the windows were boarded up.

I didn't notice anything.

I was beyond sick.

Not only was I pregnant, I caught something bad. I didn't catch the flu or Typhoid Fever or Malaria or Hep A, I had taken shots and meds against them. Dante was thinking Dengue Fever.

I didn't know, I was shaking and vomiting, my eyes felt like they were about to come out through the back of my pounding head, and every muscle / joint / and tendon in my body ached with a passion.

I swear to God I was dying.

Plus, I couldn't breath. That little RPG explosion had bruised the side of me from head to butt and shoved two of my ribs up under my rib cage where they pressed against my lung.

So when Wandell grabbed my legs and pulled me to the edge of the bed I screamed out in pain. Which made me gasp, I couldn't breath and that was not fun. I took a deep wheezing breath, "Leave me alone!"

He ignored me.

His dirty grimy hands cupped my face, "You're burning up. Dante, she needs more fluids. It's been nine days, it's Dengue."

I felt the bed move.

It nearly killed me.

"I put four bags of fluid in her today and now you believe me?"

Wandell made a face.

"Is she going to die? She can't die. You said she's the trauma nurse. What will happen if I get shot, who'll treat me?"

I wasn't treating anyone.

A wave of nausea overcame me. I rolled onto my good side and threw up on the floor. Which hurt my ribs like crazy. Wandell held my side as Dante hopped off the bed. I threw up the bottle of water I had drank minutes earlier.

Wandell voiced my worse fear, "She's going to loose this baby if we don't get fluids in her and lower this fever. Go see what we have in the bag."

The more I gasped for air the more my side hurt. I rolled on my back and put my hands up my shirt. Which Wandell stopped me. He grabbed them, "Di, honey, I'm not telling you again. Leave the ribs alone. They've pierced your lung, I am not pulling them out until I know they haven't penetrated it."

"I…can't…breath…" I somehow managed.

Sounds of the massive Sea Bag getting dumped came as I tried to get my breathing back to normal. My head throbbed 100 times worse and I trembled, cold.

"How…bad is…my…fever," I needed to know.

Wandell's hand touched my forehead, "At least 105. You're burning up." He then looked to Dante, "Is the bathroom tile?"

Then came the pitter-patter of his feet, "Yep."

Without a word Wandell lifted me off the bed with care and carried me into the bathroom. Everything hurt or ached or throbbed. Dengue was a bitch. I'd had it before and so had Dante. Who was in the bathroom. Which was tiny with a toilet and shower stall. It probably had a sink but I didn't notice it. Wandell set me down and I grabbed the toilet, pulled myself up, and began to vomit.

"I'm goin to find a clinic or something. Dante go find a phone and call Aristotle, we need a flight out of here now. Get a vein and then go."

Wandell had no sooner issued his orders, when Roger cried, "You're leaving?"

There was no answer.

I continued to vomit as Dante hung a bag of fluid off the wall, he secured it there with silver tape. I heard it's distinct tear.

While I finished my hurling, which was more dry heaving, he rolled my sleeve up my trembling wrist and secured it with more tape. Only when I finished did I notice he had not only found a vein, but the needle was in, taped down, and I was getting fluids via IV. He cupped my face and made me look in his eyes, "Leave it in. That's our last bag."

**Sometime later…**

I woke up from my death-like slumber on the tile floor to Roger poking me. He was poking me hard. If I had any strength left I would have kicked him right in the ass.

Dante had told Roger to look after me whilst he ran out to find a working phone.

Not only was I cold, I was sweating and trembling, my head still hurt and I could barely breath.

Screw Wandell. I reached up under my shirt. Felt the bump under my skin of my broken ribs. With great care I pushed them down and prayed they hadn't penetrated my lung. I prayed they had just sheered the outer layer of my lung tissue. When they were moved I waited.

No blood when I breathed.

I took a deeper breath and felt no fluid in my lung. I took another breath and found I could breath without pain, and fill my lung completely.

I'd get it looked at when I got home.

"_Diana. Diana. Diana. Someone is trying to get in!"_

I rolled on my side, "Let them in."

Too bad I wasn't contagious, he was annoying.

Then I had to throw up again. I grabbed the toliet, pulled myself up and hurled into the ancient orange glass bowl. I trembled so much I slipped and my elbows ended up on the toliet seat, while I clung to the sides. The needle in my wrist stung a little.

When I looked up Roger was in the shower, attempting to pull boards off a window.

The man was desperate.

At that moment I really didn't care who came in.

Roger realized he wasn't making progress and ran back into the bedroom. I heard the man scream a few moments later, "Don't hurt me! There's an American woman in there! She's rich! Daughter of a Senator! You can get lots of money from her, take her, she's the one you want!"

The banging in my head got worse and I fell off the toilet, passing out once again.


	19. Chapter 19

**19.**

**March 17th.**

**Israel. **

Sanderson motioned to Hoot to check the bathroom after peeking in. The electronic device in his hand had located the first contractor. Though he was initially stunned to see her passed out on the bathroom floor, an IV in her arm, trembling and filthy, as if she had been through hell.

He then turned his attention to the hysterical man.

The Chief was on his knees begging, pleading, and offering money for his life. Jeff sighed and pulled the sunglasses from his face. Knowing full well who the man was he then introduced himself, "Roger Marteen, I've been sent by the American Government, and I'm here to bring you and the three contractors home.

Roger narrowed his eyes.

Upon seeing Sanderson he remembered the man who had served as a bodyguard during his past trip to Columbia, one of the men. He then stood, "Took you long enough to get here."

Fighting the urge to shoot Roger, Sanderson glanced over his shoulder to Hoot, dressed in similar airy pants and shirts, boots and sunglasses. "How is she?"

"She's burnin up an soaked. Someone put an IV in her, it's bout empty. She ain't well. She's got something."

"I expect there is a helicopter on the way?"

Sanderson ignored Roger. He walked over to the bathroom and peered down as Hoot held two fingers against her darkly bruised neck. He leaned around Hoot and looked to see what was in the bag.

"Well aren't we going? We need to go before someone starts bombing us again."

Both men ignored Roger.

"Hoot, that bruise goes down into her shirt."

Very carefully Hoot turned his wife's limp head and saw that the dark purple bruise that covered the side of her face traveled down her neck, and into her shirt. He lifted the bottom of her shirt and saw nothing but dark bruising on her side. Along with swelling on the side of her ribs.

"Excuse me!"

Hoot lifted her waistband and told Sanderson, "Shut him up." He spotted the end of the bruise and let the waistband fall.

Sanderson stood and pointed to the bed, "Go sit down. We're not leaving till we have the other two contractors. So shut up before you get hurt. Do you understand that?"

Indigently Roger gaped, "You can't talk to me like that. Do you remember who I am?"

When Sanderson looked back, ignoring Roger, he watched Hoot shaking her limp body. He caught her chin between his fingers and patted her face. Nothing elicited a response. A rock sank in his gut, "She has a pulse?"

"Yeah. Why's she on the floor. Ain't no bombin happenin."

With a look around he ran his fingers through his hair, then it hit him, "To try and cool her off. They're trying to break her fever. Let me go see if we have a IV fluid bag…she's almost out."

While his teammate left the small bathroom Hoot took a deep deep breath. This was not what he was expecting when he picked the lock on the door. Not what he expected yesterday in the briefing room.

Professionally he knew what he needed to do, what was wrong. She was feverish and injured and dehydrated. While all he wanted to do was shake her until she woke up. It was his wife. The love of his life.

After another deep breath he put a rolled up towel behind her head and began to dismantle the butterfly needle in her wrist.

When Jeff came back he took the end of the tube, while Sanderson used the tape to put the bag on the wall. Hoot hooked the new IV tube up to the needle in her dirty wrist. He then reached into the bathroom and turned the plastic nob. Brown water came out. He turned the water off, "Gimme me your canteen."

It appeared in his hand.

Hoot twisted the cap off as Griz came over the radio in their ears.

"I have the doctor. We're heading your way."

Sanderson held his hand to his ear and answered back, "We have contractor number two, number one is close and should be returning soon. Contractor one is in bad shape, we'll need wheels or a bird."

While the two Operators spoke over their clear and safe radio, Hoot poured water into the corner of Diana's chapped lips. Only a little, then he covered her mouth. It took a moment for her to feverishly roll her head.

He held her still and she began to cough. She coughed and forcefully rolled over, waking from her fever induced state. He followed her and put the green water container in front of her face.

She reached for it and then paused, realizing she wasn't alone. She looked at him with blood red eyes, then wheezed, "Oh no…I'm hallucinating…"

"No you ain't. What do have? What're you sick with?"

She took the round flask and drank. Gagging down the treated water. When she got it all down she hiccupped, covered her mouth, and Roger spat, "Dang Fever!"

Alarmed, Hoot cocked his head and caught her eye, "Dengue? Just Dengue?"

She nodded.

"Hoot, look at this," Sanderson knelt down by Hoot and showed him the small handheld device that had a live feed on the surrounding blocks. "We're here, see that dot, that's Diana. Look at this one."

While she drained the last of Sanderson's water, Hoot and Sanderson watched the dot move quickly, as if the dot were being chased. Both men looked to Diana, "We're you being pursued yesterday or last night?"

She nodded, "Yes." Then put a hand to the back of her head.


	20. Chapter 20

20

**20.**

**Angela.**

**March 17th.**

**Ft. Bragg. **

By the time I rolled over and woke up, seeing what time it was on the alarm clock, I freaked. It was ten in the morning and the girls hadn't woken me up. Naturally my first thought was that they had been kidnapped out of their crib and taken away.

I hopped from bed, tripped on my sheets, and bolted down the hall.

But came to a stop when I spotted Gordon laying on the floor, on his stomach, our daughters on the floor with him. Practicing their crawling.

Whitney wasn't very interested in crawling. She lay on her stomach and reached up, attempting to grab a hold of her father's nose. Her sister pushed herself up and managed to stay on her hands and knees for a few seconds, then she fell over.

Gordon would reach over and hold a hand under the curve of her round stomach, letting her fall over softly, or remain upwards longer. She was intent on crawling. I stood in the hall and watched them in silence. Knowing that Gordon was well aware that I was there.

But it was nice and peaceful…for a while.

Eventually the phone rang. I ran back into the bedroom to answer it. It was my cell phone.

I found my purse on the floor and dug around until I found it. When I whipped it out and saw that it wasn't Holly, but Jack, I answered it. I would have answered it anyway.

"Yes?"

Jack's voice came over the phone, he was in a car, I could tell. "Angela! Wonderful, I was afraid I was calling too early. Look, I'll be in your area around one, would you like to have lunch? I'm in town for the Sniper Competition."

The Sniper Competition.

Ah yes, the one Randy and Gordon would be competing in later. There were Marines, SEALs, and a plethora of other peoples testing their shooting skills.

"That sounds wonderful. Call me when you get ready for lunch and I'll meet you somewhere."

I could hear the pleased-ness in his voice, "Fantastic. I'll see you later." As I hung up and closed the phone I heard Gordon calling my name. I dropped the phone back in my purse and went back in the hall.

He peered over his shoulder at me, "Who was that?"

I strolled on out and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, across from him. "Jack."

Gordon's face darkened, "What does he want?"

"To have lunch."

A look of pure disdain crossed his face and he turned his attention back to our daughters. To say Gordon was not fond of my newfound relative was the understatement of the century.

"So you're going?"

"Yep, " I sighed. I ran my fingers through my hair as Whitney made her way over to my toes. The many colors on my toe rings fascinated her.

"I don't want you taking our daughters."

That made me look at him, "Why?"

His gaze didn't leave Wendy, "Because they're our's and I don't want them in anyway tainted. I don't want him involved in our lives in any way to be honest. But I can't stop you from talking with him."

He certainly had not been shy about that. Nor about his not caring that Jack didn't know about me, nor what happened to his daughter after he disowned her shortly after she graduated from high school. Gordon didn't want to know or hear about any of it.

"What about grandparents?"

He did look at me. A look of disgust on his face, "They're overrated."

While I didn't believe all grandparents were overrated, I did know his were crappy. Or had been crappy. Our entire families had been crappy. We must have been horrible people in another life. "Jack really wants to see them again."

Gordon gave me this look of utter disbelief, "What?"

Bad choice of words.

I picked up Whitney as her chubby little fingers wrapped around my toes. She made unhappy noises. But then reached for my loose hair. "He saw pictures of them. Remember the family picture? He said they look just like us…I mean, if I had my natural hair color."

The family picture that had been taken right after Gordon got back from somewhere. So he was quite tanned, had stitches in his nose, and his just long enough hair pulled back.

"I don't care if he's the Dali Lama. I don't want him near our family."

**Chilis Restaurant**

**1:30ish…**

Gordon was going to be super pissed off is he ever found out about it, but, I wanted so much for Jack to see our daughters. Both of who loved to ride in the car.

Or the Hummer Jeff had found for me to drive. Which was the last time I let him and Diana find me a car. I wanted something safe incase I was in an accident and had the girls in the car. I get a Hummer. No, wait, a Humvee.

At least curbs, speed bumps, and signs were no longer issues.

Parking was so much easier too.

After arranging the twins in their stroller I pushed them into the restaurant. There was no wait. The hostess and some guy in a suit escorted me to a table in the back where Jack waited.

There were no people seated around him. It was the neatest thing ever. He got up and gave me a hug in his BDUs. I guess he would change later. He kissed my cheek and then looked down at the girls.

"Angela they're beautiful. They have our blonde hair and blue eyes. They're perfect."

"Gordon has blue eyes too," I added.

Jack helped me unhook them from their five-point safety harness and set them in the high chairs. Just like normal people did. Was I close to being normal? Was that even possible?

"Order anything you want Angela. What do the girls eat?"

The girls!

I smacked my forehead, "I left their food in the car. I'll be right back, could you order me a Strawberry Lemonade?"

He mirrored me as I stood, "I'll have one of my men go and get it, where are your keys?"

Immediately I shook my head, "No. I…I don't like people in my car…it's a stupid thing, really, but…"

Jack took my hand and looked in my eyes, "No it's not. I understand, I'll stay with the girls. Sergeant Harris, accompany my granddaughter out to her vehicle. Make sure no one bothers her."

**The parking lot…**

The glass jars of baby-food were in the front seat along with the bottles. Sippy cups were being experimented with at home. Not in public. I grabbed the jars off the seat and bumped the door closed with my hip.

Sergeant Harris, a good-sized black man with sunglasses, and a good foot taller then me towered above me. He was looking past me. This got my attention. When I looked to see what he was staring at I saw a police car.


	21. Chapter 21

21

**21.**

**Stephanie.**

**March 17****th****.**

**Target off base.**

**1:30 pm.**

"Trey what color does this look like to you? Does this look more olive or vomit green?"

Trey scrunched his nose and considered the question.

It was a good question.

Randy needed an olive green can of spray paint, a color that would have been prevalent in a swamp like place. He needed the paint to touch up his rifle. The rifle was not the right color. God forbid. Snipers were so superstitious.

Troy sighed loudly, "Buy them both already! Hurry up! Dad needs this stuff today!

Impatient as always he stomped down the aisle.

"Don't go far," I shouted after him. Then spotted another bottle of spray and grabbed it to compare the olive tone. It had possibility.

This was such a departure from finding out what Randy did.

Now I was buying him work related items.

"_What…what exactly do you do? What do you do in the Special…in the Army?"_

_Randy watched me with careful eyes as I sat at the small kitchen table with him, glass in hand._

_Sure the glass was empty, but I was having a traumatic evening._

_Or so I thought._

"_I'm a sniper."_

_Sniper._

_As in someone who shot people._

_It took me a moment to process what he told me. I swallowed and placed the glass on the table. "A sniper?"_

"_Yes."_

_Ok, I could handle this. This was ok. Everyone had a job. Some people had different jobs then other people. There were nurses, cops, plumber, dictators, opera singers and snipers._

_I rubbed my face, "Do you like…"  
"No. It's what I'm good at. I can shoot quite well."_

_Randy was good at killing people. Dear God, what was I going to tell my parents. I began to run my fingers through my hair. Maybe this was it. Maybe I was not destined to be with a normal blue-collar guy. Maybe I was not meant to have the whole picket fence thing._

"_Why didn't you go hunting with Trevis, Cole and Bryan?"_

_His voice never changed, it was still husky and calm. "I don't hunt animals." He reached over and covered my hand with his. "Steph, what I do for my country, at work, it does not define me. I'm a sniper, yes. I go out and find people and then I kill them, this is true. But I am also a father of two twin boys. I am the camping expert for their Cub Scout pack. I play baseball and go to Darlington religiously."_

_Ok, so he had non-killing hobbies, this was good. _

Trey pulled on the sleeve of my jacket, "Look, it's that woman."

Ok.

Randy could pick his own paint.

I gave up.

I dropped the three canisters in my red basket and glanced up in the direction my son was pointing. Right at Sue Summers, who was talking to Troy, who had his arms crossed and was eyeing her as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of her.

I gave Trey the basket and my purse, "Go and pay for these. I'll meet you by the front."

Then like a woman on the warpath, which I was, I stormed down the hall and toward the woman who dare question my son. Sure he wasn't my offspring, but he was my husband's son, what my husband had was mine, therefore he was mine.

It'd be official when the adoption went through.

"…father's job must be very important or else he wouldn't be gone so much."

I grabbed Troy by the arm, "Go with your brother and pay for the stuff. Don't leave the store."

It may have been the look in my eyes, or the tone in my voice. Not only did Troy run after his brother, Sue turned off her tape recorder. Perfect. What I was about to tell her was not appropriate for an Army Wife to say.

I was going to give the nosey bitch a tongue-lashing she deserved.

She stepped back into a display of fake plants, we were in the home-décor center. "So nice to see you again Mrs…"

Not only did I make sure to yell as forcefully as I could, I grabbed that tape recorder from her hand. "_Don't you __**ever**__ come near my children again! If you have __**anything**__ you want to know about me, about them, or about their father, you will ask me, or their father! They are our children and you do __**not**__ have permission to even address them! Do I make myself clear?"_

The bitch had the nerve to tell me, "You need to calm down."

Perhaps it was the people that were staring.

Or the fact some dude had magically appeared from nowhere and was hauling ass our way. Her people no doubt.

"_Don't you dare tell me to calm the hell down. If you so much as come within a __**foot**__ of my boys again, I'll have them trained to scream bad touch. When I leave here I'm going to the police station and filing a restraining order against you. I may even press mother-fucking charges for harassment! You will never so much as even get a hi or hello addressed to my children __**again**__!_"

Was that over doing it?

The question was, did I care?

I was so making a trip to the 5-0 when this Target adventure was over. She stepped over the line even asking the boys about Randy.

"Ok…ma'am, lets calm down, there was no harm done…"

I whipped my head around to see who this dude was that dare address me, whilst holding onto the recorder.

He screamed either lawyer or assistant, maybe both, definatly baby-sitter.

I poked him in the chest with the tape recorder. Which made him step back. Oh he definitely didn't need to inject himself in this.

"Are you out of your fucking mind? That bitch followed my family and friends from Georgia to here, after some story about Special Forces Families! That sounds like stalking to me! She's popping up everywhere and now, since none of the adults she has been trying to weasel information out of will feed her anything, she's asking our children! That is so not right and un-fucking-called-for."

Ok, so my whole reserved nature went downhill when I was pissed.

I couldn't help it.

I was Irish, Northern Irish, we were not calm people when backed into corners.

"We're just following a story and conducting interviews. If you and your fellow Army Wives would just cooperate…" Sue interjected and I whipped back around and spat at her, "If the Army was in favor of your article, they would have encouraged us to speak to you. But since everything you write turns into Army Bashing we've been strongly en-fucking-couraged to ignore you and keep our mouths shut! I'm not even going to admit to my husband being enlisted! I wouldn't tell you if he ate breakfast this morning, what makes you even think I'll tell you something else? You're out of your fucking mind."

I was getting downright nasty.

Baby-sitter grabbed my arm and I saw Target Security come around the corner. So like all good women I turned on the water-works and began to scream. I put little effort into getting away.

The Red Guards came running.

One of them a reservist who I'd seen around base pulled him away from me, "Mrs. Shugghart did he hurt you?"

Why yes he did.

I faked the tears like a pregnant sixteen year old.

"Yes! He attacked me and they have been stalking me! Call the police! Call the police! I don't feel safe!" I then ran and hid behind Red Guard #2, shoving the recorder in my purse.

Boy I could be downright bitchy at times.


	22. Chapter 22

22

**22.**

**Humera.**

**March 17th.**

**Ft. Bragg. **

"She was amazing! We could hear her screaming at the front of the store Dad! Then the annoying lady and some man were arrested and then we got to go to the police station, and then Aunty Humera came and picked us up."

Randy stared at his sons in utter disbelief.

He stood in the doorway of his home in nothing but a pair of jeans.

Mouth open in shock.

Troy ran in the house, announcing, "I have to call Jeremy!"

I handed him his bag of spray-paint.

Randy had to head toward the field to qualify in fifteen minutes. It would take much longer to get the stuff at the police station settled. So I calmly told him, "Randy, do not be concerned. Take your sons with you and I will go and make sure Stephanie is ok. When she is finished I will follow her home and we'll go to the event. Ok?"

He was still stunned.

We had stunned Randy, a formidable task.

"Is…is this about that reporter lady?"

"Indeed it is, your sons could probably tell you more. I better run. I want to get off base and to the police station before traffic gets crazy. We shouldn't be long, she's just filing paper-work to get a restraining order, it's still early so there should be judges to sign off on it."

**Police Department…**

I lied to the police officers.

I told the police that I was Stephanie's lawyer. Which in my glasses, khaki pants and blue shirt I could have been one. They let me see her in some Captain's Office.

Captain Meade.

Who was trying to calm Stephanie.

"Ma'am, I am aware that she attempting to pry sensitive information from your children…"

Stephanie erupted.

I had never seen her so irate. But when she spoke it was very clear.

"What! Are you fucking dense! That…person tried to interrogate my son! I want to see not only some sort of restraining order, temporary order of protection, or some sort of paper that makes the next time she approaches me or any member of my family an arrestible offense: the woman followed us from Georgia! She didn't bump into us as a fluke! Now you need to do something! This following us everywhere and pressing us for information is in-fucking-sane! Do something! Or I'll tell the base commander the civilian authorities won't help me!"

This Summers woman was trying to get information from our babies?

That was just apprehensible.

Captain Meade was dead-set on calming Stephanie down. He needed the relations between the base and them to be good.

Why was that name so familiar?

Meade. Meade. Meade.

I knew him, but I couldn't see his face from the open doorway.

"Ma'am, I understand how you feel…"

"Then get off your _ass_ and do something!"

He sat back quickly, took a deep breath, and then looked at me and my heart all but exploded then and there.

Captain Meade was the man who tried to send me back to Jordan.

Captain Meade used to be in the Air Force.

Captain Meade had found me hidden on a plane for Germany, he tried to report it but Jeff, who was on the same plane, prevented him from doing so. When he finally told authorities what was going on Jeff had smuggled me off the Air Force base, out of Germany and to England where my documentation was being created.

He told on Jeff for smuggling me on military airlines, for helping me escape, and for breaking his jaw in five places, both his legs, four of his ribs and dislocating his shoulder so badly surgery was required.

Jeff had been reprimanded, demoted, and seriously scolded for the attack. No evidence of myself had ever surfaced. Nor had any of Jeff's friends ever have knowledge of me, of so they had claimed.

I was almost positive each and every one of them had perjured themselves.

I was more certain that perjury was not their most serious crime.

Meade's injuries had been bad enough he had to get out of the Air Force. He had tried to sue Jeff. Meade could not locate Jeff and the Army wouldn't give Jeff up, or toss him out of his particular unit, Jeff was too valuable an asset.

Stephanie snapped her fingers, "Don't look to her! I'm here! Fix this right now or we're leaving and going through military channels!"

I quickly left after that.

**Jeff's place of work…**

Stephanie would be fine.

I would not.

I walked right up to the man at the front desk who took the messages for the wives. We were not allowed back into the building. There was a lobby area where we were allowed.

He knew me.

He knew all the wives, he had to. All the people who worked with the wives at the desk knew us all.

"How can I help you Mrs. Sanderson?"

I held me hands together palm to palm, and simply told him in a very desperate voice, the more emotional I became the thicker my accent grew. So when I told him, "I need my husband to come home now!" He did not understand me. He leant forward, "What was that?"

Tears streamed down my face.

He inquired with actual concern, "Is everything ok with the baby?"

I was going to get deported and never see my daughter again. Or worse, I'd get deported with her.

By now my façade of calmness was gone. I sobbed all over, "They're going to deport me. I can't go back! I have a family and a daughter and a husband and a life…I need my husband back. I want my husband!"

While he pressed a button on his phone he stood, "Come around here Mrs. Sanderson and have a seat. Do you need something to drink? Is there another wife I can call to come and help? You need to calm down, I can't understand you when you're upset."

I walked around the desk and sat down in his office rolly chair. He gave me a tissue that I sobbed into.

Now beyond hysterical.

"Where's your daughter," Mrs. Sanderson?"

Through the sobbing I managed, "With An…An…Angela…"

He gave me more tissues and his bottle of water. Then he got on the phone, "I need someone to get up here. I have Sergeant Sanderson's wife up here and she's hysterical. She mentioned deportation. Is there anyway we can get into contact with her husband?"

He listened to the phone and then hung it up, "Someone is coming to talk to you Mrs. Sanderson, you do need to calm down, that accent is really hard to understand when you're this upset."


	23. Chapter 23

23

**23.**

**Diana**

**May 17****th**

**Israel.**

I woke up and could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Which was odd. Not because I woke up. But because I woke up and could focus, I woke up and noticed everything around me except the urge to vomit.

Sure I was still nauseas, horribly so.

Every single muscle in my body ached with a passion and my head felt like it was about to explode. And I was still trembling but I no longer felt cold. I felt like shit but…I felt buzzed.

"Good girl, you're up."

Even though I rolled over and threw up, I still felt super.

I should not have been feeling super. I had Dengue Fever and was pregnant. Super should not have been in my vocabulary. "What did you give me?"

Dante came over and looked in my eyes with a penlight.

"That magic red pill."

I glared, "Are you insane! I'm pregnant!"

Dante put the light away. "We have bigger problems. The guys are gone and there is some sort of riot going on around us. They left the bags with us. It's getting dark. I can't move all this and you with a broken arm, I need you awake and moving and that is the only thing I could think of!"

He was getting scared.

I could see it in his eyes.

He was cross-trained in survival skills. I was cross-trained in evasion among other things. He was not trained to survive and escape in a hostile area. He was right. If I was killed the pill wouldn't be such an issue.

I pushed myself up and managed to climb out of the truck bed I was in. How had I ended up in there? While it hurt to move, it wasn't at the front of my mind.

Dante handed me a backpack and the seabag.

I pulled on the backpack and almost fell. It was heavy! Or I was weak from my dehydrated state. I held on the rope of the seabag and looked around. We were in a street that was packed with people screaming, running, chasing other people, attempting to drive, bumping into us and various other activities.

I then looked to Dante who had a pack over his arm and a briefcase in hand. He looked to me for guidance.

So I asked what was a stupid question as we were getting tussled by the mob, "What happened? Where are the men?"

He came close.

"More bombings. They went to find a place to land the helicopter, but then they were trapped by the bombs, so the others went to go find them. That was an hour ago and now look at this."

Ok.

Now I had a better idea of what was going on.

Dante procured a map from somewhere, "We need to get here. This is where the boys are heading."

I eyed the map.

Then looked around the dusky street, dusty too.

Then I saw a sewer grate.

"What if we go underground? The sewers are closed down. We could follow them out of this mess and then make our way to that school."

**Twenty minutes later…**

Dante dropped down a flashlight to me. It fell on the ground with a _thunk_, and then I picked it up and stepped out from under the hole above me. I flipped on the penlight and looked around.

Dante kicked each bag down and they each landed with a loud _thunk_!

The penlight gave a little light, not much.

With a deep breath I shone the light on the compass. We needed to head south or southwest for six miles at least.

"Girl…stand beneath me please, I don't want to fall."

I hurried over and stood beneath him while he climbed down the rung ladder on the side of the sewer wall, one handed, his other arm was wrapped to his chest and set with pieces of rebar.

With my trembling hands I held onto his legs, then butt, and then waist and helped him hop down. "Dante put the pack on and hold the light and compass. Make sure we stay toward south and southwest."

After a quick hurl in the dark of the sewer, I stumbled to the bags and Dante sighed, "There's no way we can carry all these."

But we had to.

So I pulled on the backpack and stuff the briefcase into the seabag, "I can get it. I feel better."

"Set your watch to an hour."

Puzzled, I asked, "Why?"

"We'll stop so I can put a bag of fluid in you."

**Two hours later…**

No bag of fluids.

No nothing.

We were walking through liquid of some kind. Thank god our seabag was waterproof, cause I was dragging it. There would be no messing around with the needle in my arm in this nasty stuff. No way was I going toxic.

Dante stopped and I bumped into him.

"Sorry," I mumbled, "Why are we stopping?"

"Girl…a rat just did the breaststroke in front of me."

While I wasn't surprised, I inquired, "What's our direction?"

"South."

Perfect.

I then asked, "Is there any chance we can stop. Is there high ground ahead?"

Dante shone the flashlight around and I sagged against him. Even though I was exhausted, I felt wired. I had vomited, and felt like vomiting yet again. Plus I was pretty sure I was getting more dehydrated. I was sweating. Not good. "When this pill wears off I am going to need medical treatment. I'm sweating profusely back here."

"How profusely?"

The paranoia was kicking in, "Make sure the baby gets tested to ok? If I am unable to be roused, just make sure the baby is normal, ok?"

"Diana?"

"I am seriously going to need fluids soon."

Dante shone the light around. Then at the wall. He then told me, "Climb up there honey."

Up where?

I looked around and saw a set of rungs. We made our way over with the water up to our thighs.

He dug in my pack and made a happy squeal when he found an IV Bag of fluids. Which after cleaning off he inserted into the needle taped in my arm. I felt him doing all this. Watched a little, since he held the light in his mouth. I watched him hang the bag off some razor wire that was hanging from a rung, wrapped around the rung.

"Now, I have two more bags girly. We need to use them wisely. We need some clean water."

Sagging against the wall, I closed my eyes and tried to think of something. Anything. His hand touched my arm. "Girl you're trembling. Are you cold?"

Honestly, I couldn't tell.

I was in too much pain but the magic pill was making it hard to feel it. Very bad. So I lied, "No. My body's confused. The Dengue and certain meds don't mix well."

He sighed and sagged against the wall beside me.

"Sorry. I had to do it. That mob was going to kill us both."

I patted his leg.

"It's ok. We'll be ok."

Yeah right. We were so going to die.


	24. Chapter 24

24

**24.**

**Angela**

**May 17****th**

**Ft. Bragg**

Somehow I had come into possession of five children, two of which were my own. One was Alexandria and the other two were Trey and Troy. So it was no big surprise when someone came knocking on my front door around dinnertime.

We were cooking.

Well…I was cooking and the kids were making a mess.

What had turned into lasagna was now some weird cheesy tomato sauce bake, don't ask me how. At least I hadn't burnt the garlic bread.

No sooner had I gotten my two little ones strapped into their high chairs, Trey and Troy separated at separate ends of the table so there was no cross contamination, and Alexandria asleep in her boopy chair mere feet away from my feet.

When someone knocked on the front door.

Both Trey and Troy looked up with pasta-covered faces.

No one was getting up from the table.

"Come in!" I yelled, I had gotten everyone seated and eating, it was a miracle.

"Is it Uncle G?"

Troy made a face at his brother, "Uncle G doesn't knock in his own house dummy."

"Troy don't call your brother a dummy. Trey, Uncle G and your Dad will be back sometime soon. Now…eat your casserole."

"I thought it was lasagna."

Troy made a face, "You told me it was Pasta."

"It can be whatever you want it to be. Now eat."

No sooner were the words out of my mouth did Troy sit straight up. He was no longer hovered over his plate, as if any distance between his plate and his mouth would lead to his food vanishing.

I peeked over my shoulder in the general direction he was looking.

Jack was there.

I blinked in surprise to put it lightly.

Jack had a bottle of wine and flowers in hand. "The front door was open when you yelled."

Of course it was.

Who locked their doors at the dinner hour on a military base?

"Yes…of course, would you like to have dinner? Please have a seat."

Jack set the bottle of wine on the counter and handed me the flowers. Naturally I stood and both boys followed my actions. After all he was in uniform. "Dinner sounds great, it smells wonderful."

Neither boy laughed.

I smelled the flowers and then pointed, "You remember Trey and Troy, Randy's boys?"

"Yes of course, at ease young men."

Trey sat down but Troy made room at the table and set up another plate, while I put the Daisy's in water. In a vase I had made and placed that on the kitchen counter.

**Later…**

By the time Jack left a car pulled up and dropped Humera off.

Gordon and Randy still had not returned.

Which was good.

We had a major issue on our hands.

"So this detective man…Meade, got discharged from the Air Force early cause Jeff beat him so badly, and is still angry about it."

Humera nodded.

She held her hands around her cup of hot tea. Seated on the living room floor. Still shaken. Her eyes were red from crying. "Yes. And my uncle was on the news. He's trying to find out where I am. If he sees my uncle on the TV he'll call for sheer revenge. I don't know what to do Angela. This could cause an international incident. I'm pretty sure the Army was not even supposed to be there in the first place."

That was a very good possibility.

I chewed on my thumbnail as I thought, cross-legged on the new couch.

This was indeed an issue.

A big one.

Good thing I had experience in dealing with such issues.

Humera looked down at her daughter, wide-eyed and finally calm and not crying, at a relative peace in her bouncy chair. "Jeff could get in serious trouble for this."

While he could, I told her, "Don't think about that. What did the people at the office say?"

Humera licked her lips and looked at her tea. "They are looking into Meade."

"Do they know how Jeff met you? How you magically appeared here?"

She nodded.

At least they knew.

"All your papers are legal? They're good?"

She nodded, "On paper it looks like I defected here. It's all legal. I'm an American now. Jeff…he called in favors, blackmailed people, bribed people, even asked for favors to get me out of that place. We didn't get married or even meet back up until I was made a citizen. It's not as if we married to get me here, we didn't. We just perhaps met in an unconventional manner."

Unconventional, right.

And Gordon and I had a trying childhood.

Just a tad of an understatement.

"Could you imagine what would happen if that female reporter got a hold of this story?"

That would indeed be bad.

"We need to scare her away…lets blow up her car."

Humera frowned, "Diana's rubbing off on you."

Ok fine, that was a tad dramatic.

"We could always try the legal route like Steph. Maybe we should find a lawyer for you?"

That seemed like a better idea. She didn't frown. And then speaking of the devil Stephanie waltzed in from the garage. There was no need for a key. We left our doors open when we were expecting company.

The both of us looked up.

Stephanie had a big day according to Humera.

Stephanie waved a piece of paper in the air after dropping her purse on the small kitchen table, "Where are my boys?"

"In the guest bed. What's that?"

"Well Angela, this here is a Temporary Order of Protection from Sue and her little buddy. But ask me what else I got? I'll get to you in a second Humera, you bailed on me earlier today."

Stephanie who seemed to have some sort of a inner awakening earlier, she seemed different. As if she had gone through a metamorphosis and was now a butterfly.

"What else did you get?"

Stephanie plopped down in Gordon's Lazy Chair and waved something electronic looking around, "I have her recorder."

She had my attention, "Sue Summers?"

She had Humera's, "Isn't that stealing?"

"It is not stealing. I reappropriated it. I already listened to it, do you want to hear her thoughts on us and the Special Forces?"


	25. Chapter 25

25

**25.**

**Diana**

**May 17****th**

**Israel.**

"Oh my God there's another rat and it's waving at me! It is waving at me!"

Dante was being a gem.

I needed a second bag of fluid. I was worse off then we had thought. It was dark so the diagnosing was iffy. And then I couldn't stand. Whether it was the fever or sheer exhaustion, I had no earthly idea. When I showed a slight improvement Dante was hopeful.

I stood, took two steps, and fell in a heap with the pack on my back.

He covered his face with his hands.

"Girl…we may just have to find ulterior means of transportation. Stay here and see if you can find anything in those bags to eat. I'm going to get out of here and try to find some wheels."

Even though I couldn't see him his voice was comforting. I got to my knees and slugged off the pack, "Take the penlight, I think there's another in one of these bags."

Dante patted my back and then I watched his flashlight vanish into the dark.

Leaving me alone.

Not that I was afraid.

Above us there was no noise. It was late after all. Around us there was the sounds of dampness, drips, and the occasional splash in a puddle.

I opened the pack easily in the dark.

It was Dante's.

He packed the same way I did, we were trained together to I reached around the inside side of the bag and found his maglight without problem. I plopped down on my hip in the cool sewer. Which only had a mere half a foot of drainage of some sort.

I clicked on the flashlight and it was as if the sun had risen.

I shone it on the water.

It seemed cleanish.

It was runoff from the above grates. Slightly silty. Good thing I'd had my Hep A and Typhoid Shots, among other's for dirty water protection. Catching something from the water was the least of my worries.

Light over my shoulder I dug through on the hunt for food. Dante hid food in his bag like me. It took me a moment to find a Powerbar. Which I unwrapped and ate like a starved person. I shoved the wrapper in the bag. We'd be leaving no signs behind.

While I ate mentioned Powerbar I dug around his bag and easily found our last bag of IV Fluid. There were extra clothing, a pair of boots, medical supplies, among many other essential things: but our work phone.

A satellite phone he'd taken from the case from where, who knew. But I had a phone in my hand. While I finished up the bar I turned it on and prayed it had been charged. Or the batteries were working. It wasn't ours. God only knew where he'd found this little thing.

But I dialed out number for ours. While I inwardly prayed it wasn't in our bag and that Wandell had it.

Nothing rang.

While I dug around for the water purification tablets and a canteen, which I knew he had, I heard the phone dial and ring. It rang four times before Wandell answered it, "How'd you get this number?"

Where had Dante found this phone?

"I memorized it bitch."

"Diana! Where are you."

What kind of stupid question was that? Upon finding the canteen I placed it in my lap and continued the hunt for the tablets. "Where are you?"

Damn Dante, where did you hide your tablets?

"We are looking for you? That tracker thing stopped a bullet in Jeff's pants. So please, enlighten me girly, where you at? Is Dante with you?"

Maybe the Seabag had water purification pills?

I plopped the canteen on the pack and turned my attention to the Seabag. "In the sewer's heading toward the place. Dante left to go find a ride. Where are you?"

I heard him tell someone (likely one of the boys) that we were in the sewer.

Then Jeff's voice came over the phone, "Where in the sewers are you? We're still looking for you two in the city!"

God he was such a whiner.

Victory! I had the tablets in hand. I shone the light on them to be sure. Then I dropped two in and filled the canteen with the water around me. The top water as much as I could manage. Hoping the silt would have sank. Hoping anyway.

"Get in the sewer and head south…southwest. We'll meet you at the place."

Whilst I shook the canteen I heard something.

I peered over my shoulder and shone the light in that general direction, while hearing Wandell's voice in the background of the phone. Jeff too, "You and Dante will wait right where you are, do you understand?"

Yeah right.

I shone the light around and then heard the distinct sound of disturbed water. Someone else was with me.

"Hold on," I told Jeff, reached into the Seabag and pulled out the first handgun my fingers touched, and called out in Hebrew, since we were technically still in Israel I was betting it would be understood, "_Whoever is there, you need to leave. It is dangerous here. I'm with the sanitation department. There has been contamination here_."

Silence.

Well wasn't that just dandy?

"Honey?"

My God that sounded like my husband? Or was it my fever? "Hoot?"

"Yeah."

Then he stepped from behind the corner he was behind. I shone the Maglight at him and saw it was indeed him. In jeans and a t-shirt. Of all things he could have been wearing!

Which was the first thing I asked him, "What's with the weekend clothes?"

As I shoved the gun back in the bag. He didn't need to know I had pondered letting off a few warning shots instead of faking a sewer leak.

"That is not appropriate work attire," I added.

He was at my side a moment later, "Is Sanderson on the phone?"

Then I saw why he had too change clothing. His arms, neck, and hair had a good amount of blood and dust in it, smoke and ash. He'd been near some manner of explosion.

He dropped a bag on the wet floor and grabbed the phone and shone his light on my wrist, where the tape and butterfly needle remained. Quickly he told Jeff the coordinates and hung up. In a mere 3.8 minutes.

"Are you hurt? Whose blood is that?"

He gave me a look, then told me, "Let's go on an take that needle on out. It's been in long e'nuff. I don't like it bein open down here."

He had a point.

Since I wasn't hooked up to an IV I let him. He then cleaned it and bandaged it up. He then gave me a bottle of water. Where he procured it from I had no idea and didn't care.

One thought came to mind and I groaned, "Crap…I'm hallucinating."

He twisted the cap off and put the gritty bottle in my hands. "Baby drink that. I have two more."

Oh God I was hallucinating! I smacked his arm. He appeared real.

"Baby, you ain't hallucinating. I spotted you an Dante crawlin down here right fore some bombs went off. An I followed you. So quit worrin and drink."

Was he really with me?

"What day did we get married?"

He was puzzled and then he thought about it.

"Ok, you're real." I then drank some of the water. Wanting to save it for when I really needed it. Hoot tipped the bottle up forcing me to drink more. Oh he was defiantly really here.

He let out a sigh and shone the light around, "Where's Dante?"

I managed to get the bottle out and informed him, "Up there. He went to go find a ride cause I was having problems carrying the bags."

Hoot looked at the heavy bags and then myself.

I was willing to bet good money I didn't look like a million, or even a thousand dollars. He then got to his feet, "Stay here an drink that. I'll go find'im."


	26. Chapter 26

26

_Authors Note: Ok, I'll be introducing another wife, an original character, however, the Operator she's married to appears in the book so I am slightly changing his name out of respect, he's a real guy. Since he's real in the book and was one of the influences for Hoot, his wife may get a chapter, I haven't decided yet._

**26.**

**Stephanie**

**May 17****th**

**Fort Bragg.**

With the phone on one ear and the earphones on the other, I chatted with Angela who was next door and watched Mad TV on my bed.

It wasn't like I was slacking off.

Trey was on Randy's side of the bed sound asleep. He'd come in to watch TV with me and I hadn't had a chance to carry him to bed. Plus he was sound asleep so he didn't hear any of the plotting.

"…this means no speaking of this to Gordon, understood?"

Angela was extremely close to her husband. If there was a leak in our plan then she was probably it. Sure I was close to Randy. But no one was as close to their significant other as those two.

"I got it. I heard the tape. That bitch is going down."

She used a profanity.

Angela was pissed off.

It was good to see her pissed off. I hated seeing her as nothing but a victim.

She continued to ramble, "I am so going down to the police station tomorrow with my lawyer and getting one of those protective orders and filing charges for slander, and whatever else I can. If she thinks she can publish whatever she wants about us just to make a buck…she is sadly mistaken!"

Gordon was obviously not back yet.

I continued to make notes on my pad, "But it's all true…"

"I don't care! I don't want people knowing that stuff about me! I'm sure Diana doesn't want people knowing about her work and Dad. And lets not get started on Humera!"

She was very emotional.

Which was understandable.

"Angela, what I was actually trying to get across was that flow of information about us and the other wives…how'd she find it out?"

Silence.

She was thinking.

"Right," I added, "Someone who know's us told her."

More silence.

"We need to figure out whose giving her all this information before you start slapping lawsuits on everyone."

I could hear Angela share that thought with Humera. While I added that note down to my pad of thoughts. While they conferred I hit the on button on the tape recorder and listened as Sue's voice came over the earphone in my left ear, "_Girlfriend of Sergeant Marcealis shares a common thread as the other wives of the Operators, she is overly protective of both her boyfriend and his job, this prevents her from being fully able to connect to the other regular army wives. She does connect with Sergeant Gibson's wife Diana due most likely to their outgoing personalities. However, she is a trust-fund baby and has no real job other then little pet projects on the base. However she has chosen to reside off base. Why? Make a note to look into a criminal record since information on her is available from the information I have on Sergeant Marcealis_…"

Angela's voice came over the phone so I turned the tape off and asked, "Whose Sergeant Marcealis and who's he dating?"

She blew out a breath, "I met her a couple weeks ago. She went shopping with Diana…Grace was her name I think. She lives off base and John moved in with her not long ago. He's in the same team as our guys. He just recovered from a nasty stab wound, I heard Gordon say he'd be action ready any day now. Why?"

"Sue mentioned her by name on the tape."

"Really?"

"Yeah, she's rich…crap, Gordon's home. I'll drop by your house before you go to work."

"All right sweetie, bye." I hung the phone up and made another note, then glanced over at a sleeping Trey. Sound asleep on his father's pillow with his small hand curled around the remote control.

I then turned the tape recorder back on.

"…_only. Also, make a mental note of the significant age difference between the two of them. There appears to be an age gap between the Operators and their significant others, the Operators usually being older, coincidence? Also, find out where the money in the funds comes from. Along with contacting Jimmey to find out about the lack of record for Master Sergeant Gary I Gordon prior to his 17__th__ birthday when he married Angela Gordon_."

Something caught my eye.

When I glanced up Randy came into the bedroom. He came over to the bed. Gently took the remote from Trey's small hand and scooped the sleeping child up, carrying him effortlessly from the bedroom.

Randy was home.

I quick gathered up my notepad, the dozens of sticky notes and tape recorder, turned it off and shoved it under my bed. Where Randy would never find it. Along with the 300 pair of heels I had bought and my yoga matt. I then hopped off the bed and peeked out the bedroom window that was above the bed, it looked directly into Angela's bedroom window.

The light was out.

I then grabbed my book from the nightstand and opened it, making it look like I was doing something constructive, other then the plotting.

When Randy appeared in the doorway again, rubbing the back of his neck, he told me, "My CO wants to meet with us after your little…" apparently he was at a loss for words, and then they came to him, "…eventful afternoon."

"I have to work tomorrow."

Which was why Angela and Humera would be working on our investigations tomorrow.

"Yeah well, you'll have to tell them you'll be late."

Fine.

I tossed my book by my feet, "What time?"

"07:00."

I wasn't even going to be up then. "Is there anyway we can push it up to around…9ish?" Some of us would be sleeping at that hour.

Randy shook his head.

He then asked, "So tell me what went on this afternoon."


	27. Chapter 27

**27.**

**Coco**

**May 18****th**

**Outside of Fort Bragg.**

"John, get your feet off that table. I serve meals on that table."

My boyfriend since forever looked up over the morning paper at me like I was insane, the look he usually gave me. Still I shoved them off as I walked past him. I also belted him upside the head for doing so, again.

It was like we were married.

He grabbed his mug of coffee.

Again, he wasn't wearing pants.

What were we nudists?

Not in the mood to argue I went into our small kitchen and poured a mug of the dark sludge he called coffee and let the caffeine hit my brain.

"This afternoon there's a meeting at the office for wives and girlfriends."

"So," I spat.

His dark eyes looked at me over the paper, "That includes you."

That's what he thought, "I am not attending another mindless meeting of safety and security. So tell whoever is in charge of the meeting over there they can kiss my ass. I have the triplets to keep me company."

All three were sound asleep on the living room floor.

Hans. Sven. Olaf.

Purebred Rotts.

Rotts that didn't do much of anything unless it was on one of our commands.

John lowered the paper.

I cocked an eyebrow and leant against the kitchen counter, daring him to argue. He could kiss my half black half Japanese ass.

Dummy.

"I'm serious, honey. You need to be there. Colonel said so."

"Well the colonel can kiss my ass too. I'll be gardening."

An annoyed look crossed his handsome Cuban face. The scar on his chest was oh-so-evident. It screamed out at me. The skin on the scar was still pink it was so new.

"First of all, babe, I'm the only person allowed to kiss that ass. Second, don't talk about the colonel like that, ok, he's not a bad man. Thirdly, as my girlfriend, and dependent, you need to be attending these things."

I sipped my coffee.

Unimpressed.

John then sat up in the chair, thus allowing an eyeful of the sculpted body that was his. Not an ounce of fat was anywhere on there. He was all lean muscle. He was always working out no matter what. Even after he had been stabbed and was doing rehab for the injury to his chest and shoulder. If I ever found the person who stabbed him, well, I'd be introducing that person to the triplets, or my new gun.

"Plus you have a friend on base."

Now I glared, "I have friends. But Diana is away at work now."

She was the only cool person there.

I could not tolerate the trophy wives or husband hunters. They were just annoying.

The sound of tires on gravel caught my ear. I peered over my shoulder and out the window. A cloud of dust followed a car into our driveway. Were they salesmen? It was a little early.

"Is it the Murphy boys?"

I squinted my eyes.

Nope, no racist morons, they drove a pickup truck. They never slowed down when they drove by and John was home. What fun was it to prowl around when my boyfriend wasn't even home? I was no challenge. Who wouldn't want to test the skills of a special ops guy?

"No, some woman. She's taking pictures."

John got up and hurried to the window, peeking out over me. Pressing up against me. Still smelling like the Calla Lily body splash I wore to bed. He muttered in Spanish. What? I had no Earthly idea.

"English please!"

He set his mug down on the marble counter and ran out the kitchen door.

Not wearing a stitch of clothing.

Not that he needed it, he looked damn good and everyone in the neighborhood, including the surrounding houses which housed the wives on "John Watch" who were about to get another eyeful.

We really should have just moved into a nudist colony.

I pulled the eyelet aside and watched him jog on over to the woman, who dropped her camera at the sight of him.

He had such a nice ass.

She blushed, I could see from where I stood. Something furry brushed my thigh. I reached down and petted my full-grown puppy. "Your daddy is running around like a crazy man."

It was Sven.

Sven was the one who stepped on my feet.

I glanced down at Sven who looked up at me with golden eyes that matched my own. "Your daddy is a crazy man." Sven cocked his head at me and watched with curiosity.

_Later that day…_

I had my little shorty shorts on and was bent over gardening while John was mowing the lawn, just having a gay old time, rocking out to Prince over my headset. When two feet came into view out of the corner of my eye.

I looked over and saw two vaguely familiar women.

Army Wives.

Where had I seen them before though?

One was obviously Middle Eastern.

The other had her hair up in a cap, sunglasses covering her eyes. Long sleeves and jeans and it was hotter then hell. She must have had serious body issues.

I stared at them.

Mrs. Body-Issue who had dozens of diamonds on her toe-rings knelt down beside me, but out of reach. "Hi! Our husbands know your boyfriend and we have a security issue you need to be concerned about."

A security issue?

Was this what that meeting was about?

She then reached her hand out to shake my dirty hand, "I'm Angela Gordon and this is Humera Sanderson."

Sanderson…he drove John to the rehab a few times. All the guys had. I remembered Sanderson the most though. He and John were pretty close. But I did not know he was married. Who knew?

I shook both their hands and Humera asked me in a very English accent, "Could we possibly chat inside?"


	28. Chapter 28

28

**28.**

**May 18****th**

**Israel.**

Jeff Sanderson came around the corner of the sewer sweating profusely, his shoulder and collarbone killing him from where a chunk of concrete had hit him upon being blown apart by a bomb. His ears were still ringing.

When he spotted Diana seated on the sewer floor, against the wall, napping.

Dante pacing and looking upwards.

He knew they were right on with their extraction point.

He knew Hoot was above doing his job.

He lowered Griz down onto the dry sewer floor by Diana. Griz and Wandell followed, and lastly came Roger.

"This is disgusting. When I return to Washington I am telling everyone about this and what you animals put me through. After of course I get tested for every known disease to man. You people are monsters!"

While Wandell went to Diana and Griz went out the exit of the sewer, which was up ahead. Sunlight shone in and provided adequate lighting.

Jeff grabbed Dante roughly by his shirt and pulled him close. Dante held his hands up. Concern and confusion filled his tired and dirty face.

"You're good with drugs?"

Dante nodded.

With a jerk of his head toward Roger, Jeff snarled, "Make. Him. Shut-up."

He then let go of Dante and looked to Wandell while Roger continued to complain. "How is she?"

Wandell was silent for a moment.

Wandell then looked up, he sighed, "She need medical help. Her fever hasn't broken yet. She's dehydrated. This is not the best environment for her, she needs to be in a hospital, we need to drop her off in a hospital before we head home."

Sanderson shook his head.

"Hoot's not just leaving her in some foreign hospital."

Sharply Wandell spat, "You don't get it. She's cooking like this. If we don't break her fever and it elevates there could be lasting damage. This is not a we should wait and see if she can last, we need to get her to a hospital ASAP. Yesterday."

Jeff snarled and rubbed is forehead, "Is Ramstein too far?"

"Is that our only option?"

Jeff thought it over.

He thought about what was closer.

"Don't think just military. Our boss has hospitals everywhere."

Jeff relented, "Where would be the closest?"

"Cairo. Why do you think we were heading there to begin with? We'll be safe there. Our hospital here was bombed."

A hand fell on Jeff's sore shoulder and he flinched. Roger complained about a mosquito and Wandell asked, "What? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. Does she need water? I have some in my flask."

Wandell stood, "Don't fine me. What happened? You're favoring your left."

Pulling away.

Jeff again snarled, "Back off. Sit down. I'm fine."

Then came Roger's voice in the light, "It's ok people. Lets just…chill out here. Everything will be ok. A ok. Ok?"

Silence followed and both men looked at the politician.

The politician looked back.

He then looked to Jeff and said, "I really admire you. You know, I wanted to join the army, but my father made me go to Harvard." He then added, "I really hate my job…I wish I could be like you guys. Have action, excitement, great bodies…"

With a swear beneath his breath Jeff headed for the light.

Wandell then told Jeff as Roger turned his happier attention to Dante, "We need to leave soon."


	29. Chapter 29

29

**29.**

**Humera **

**May 18****th**

**Outside Fort Bragg.**

"Good God, I feel like a Polygamist's third wife," Coco muttered, from the backseat of the Hummer, between Wendy and Whitney. Trey and Troy were in the back of the Hummer coloring. Alexandria slept in her baby seat on the other side of Wendy.

Three baby seats in the back seat.

Not the typical steak-out.

Unless you added in Angela behind the wheel with a pair of thermal binoculars. Where did she get them from? I did not want to know. But she had two pairs and a bag full of goodies that Gordon no doubtfully "borrowed" from the office.

"She's still in there," Angela reported.

We'd been across the street for a good hour and a half. Soon we'd have to call it a day. The babies would not sleep all afternoon. Plus we had a meeting to attend.

Behind us Coco sighed loudly.

She had been more then happy to help us investigate this woman who was so curious about our husbands and their job. She had wanted to know everything. Security was an important issue to her to. Her lover had been near fatally stabbed when information about American's was leaked.

"We need to draw the bitch out," Coco declared, which sounded like a magnificent idea.

"How," I inquired.

Silence.

Well, not silence, we could hear the babies sleeping and the boys coloring, and fighting over the green crayon.

Angela lowered the goggles from her face, "We call her from a cell phone. Arrange a meeting of some sort with…"

"I'll do it. I want to meet her," Coco seethed.

Her voice was cold.

Stonily.

It made me glance back at her and see her hazel eyes set cold. But I suppose if Jeff had nearly died as John did I would be more protective. I turned in my seat to face both her and Angela. "We should do this collectively."

Coco nodded.

Angela chewed on her lip. "Ok…I can go in the hotel room. Gordon showed me how to get into hotel rooms a month ago."

I stared at her in concern.

"Incase I forgot my key," she added.

Knowing Gordon it was true.

Coco pointed to a payphone on the ground floor of the motel, "I'll call her from there and tell her to meet me somewhere…she'll probably leave to go check it out. Once she leaves Angela and I will break into her room. Humera stay here and keep an eye out for her. If she comes back honk twice and then confront her about what she's doing. Take at least five minutes to give us time to get out."

Angela and I stared at her.

It was a good plan.

"That was very well thought out," I told her.

With a shrug she told us, "I read a lot."

But it was a plan.

Angela took the goggles and both she and Coco hopped out, then ran across the street from the Dunkin Doughnuts parking lot we were parked in. They ran to the phone Coco had pointed out.

I peeked back at the babies and my cell phone went off. Quickly I answered it so it would not wake them.

"Yes?"

"Honey?"

Excitement filled me, "Jeff?"

He breathed into the phone.

I could hear him smile as he spoke, "Yes honey, it's me. I'll be home soon, a few days or so. I'm somewhere safe so don't worry."

Oh thank Allah.

I closed my eyes, whispered a prayer, and then watched Angela and Coco hide behind a car and wait. "Are you ok? Is everything well?"

"Fine. Don't worry. How's the baby? Are you ok with her alone?"

I was unable to hide my smile.

"We're fine. Do you want me to put something special in the house for you to eat or drink when you return?"

Voices spoke to Jeff.

He replied to them and then back to me, "I have to go. But could you make those crab stuffed salmon pinwheels?"

That I could do.

"Absolutely love, take care of yourself."

He smiled again, "Love you." Then he hung up the phone and I still smiled. I closed the phone and watched Sue all but run from the motel. She ran to her rental car and took off a few moments later.

Once she was out of sight Angela and Coco ran into the motel. No sooner had they done that did someone tap on the window on the driver's door. It frightened me. I jumped in my seat and saw that it was a Dunkin Doughnuts Employee..

My heart sank.

We were caught!

I quickly hopped into the other seat and opened that door. Some teenager with pimply skin looked at me, and then my breasts. "You've been parked here a long time. Is everything ok?"

Obviously my boobs could help in this situation. I let out a helpless sigh, "Everything is well. I had to stop for a brief moment, I'm pregnant you see and suffering from the illness."

"Oh. Ok. Ummm…yeah, sure, just let me know if you need an ambulance or something."


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 22

**30.**

**May 18****th**

**Outside Fort Bragg.**

Angela and Coco let themselves in the pretty iffy no-tell-motel room. Closing the door behind them they set out through the room looking for anything incriminating that they could use.

They looked around the bathroom.

They looked around the closet.

They looked around the bedroom, floor, the desk, and the furniture.

Then they checked in the trashcans and in the vent, which Angela unscrewed with the Leatherman Gordon had given her for Valentine's Day.

Nothing.

"What are we missing? Where would you be keeping stuff? She has to have it in here somewhere. She's a reporter so she can't be smarter then us."

Angela nodded in agreement to Coco.

Her green eyes scanned the hotel room.

Thoughts filled her head. Where would a shrewd businesswoman keep important things? What would Holly do?

"The safe. Did you check the safe in the closet?"

Coco frowned, "No. I couldn't get in it."

Angela smiled at her newfound friend. "Come my child. I'll show you how to get in a safe. You never know when this skill will benefit you."

_That evening…_

Wendy was fussy.

She had been changed, fed, burped and set down to bed.

She wasn't ready for bed.

She just wasn't having it.

Before she woke up her sister Gordon scooped her from the crib and took her down the hall, into the living room where he was cleaning his rifle. Parts were scattered across the ottoman, coffee table, and couch.

With the TV on an episode of JAG, Gordon plopped down on the couch. Placed Wendy on his one knee and his rifle on the other. He began to work on his weapon when a crash came from the garage.

It got Wendy's attention.

Not Whitney's.

Whitney continued to sleep and breath heavily, not far from the baby monitor, which he grabbed as he stood and headed for the garage, with Wendy in his arm. She reached for his ear with her small chubby fingers.

Made cooing noises.

Even grabbed his cotton t-shirt and tugged on it. Utterly pleased with herself and her father for no other reason then simply being about a year old. When he stepped into the garage she took in everything and screeched happily at the sight of her mother

Her mother who stood beside Coco at the back end of the Humvee, both women regarded a metal safe in the massive vehicles open truck carefully.

Coco had a handsaw in hand.

Angela a crowbar.

Both glanced up at Gordon.

Coco asked, "Would you happen to have a welders torch in here somewhere?"

To which Angela nodded and then went to her husband, taking her daughter from him. She shared an Eskimo kiss with Wendy as Gordon walked to the safe. Intentionally rubbing against Angela as he did so. "Want it open?"

"Well yeah," Coco smartly answered.

Ignoring her obvious attitude, Gordon glanced over at Angela who had Wendy upon her hip, while their daughter reached for her mother's hair that was just out of reach in it's messy ponytail. The red hew drawing her to it.

While Gordon looked to the safe, Coco glanced at the baby.

She then looked to Gordon and Angela, "She's got some blonde hair. Are you both natural blondes?"

Angela nodded as Wendy managed to grab hold of her own blonde locks. "Yes we are, aren't Wendy?" Which earned Angela a coo from her daughter at the mention of her name. Angela brushed curls from Wendy's face and kissed her daughter atop her clean smelling hair.

With a sigh Coco turned back to Gordon.

The safe door was open.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 21

**31.**

**Diana**

**May 19****th**

**London.**

I woke up completely exhausted, aching, and with a killer headache for the last time in a hospital bed where nurses in the hall spoke with an English accent.

Although I knew I was safe.

I knew that there was nothing to worry about, and that I probably wasn't dead.

I still panicked.

Having no idea what had happened and knowing that I had been asleep for quite a bit of time. I woke up quickly and sat up. Which made the clean and sterile hospital room spin around pretty quickly. So quickly I fell back and fought the urge to vomit.

The urge won and I managed to pull myself over the metal rails of the bed. A plastic trashcan was held under my face just in time. Tan hands held the trashcan I noticed. The hands belonged to Hoot. It didn't surprise me. I had woken up several times before and he was always there. Occasionally Jeff had been there. But I had never been lucid enough to say anything, or remember much, only their faces.

When I finished he handed me a glass of water.

Then helped me back into the bed. Which wasn't exactly comfortable.

I looked over at him.

Too tired to say much of anything.

He stroked my face and pushed strands of hair back, he even wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of his hand. Very softly he told me, "Honey, we're finally pregnant."

I was far too tired to fake surprise.

Thank God.

I was unable to do more then stare, "Pregnant? How's…how's the baby? Did they do any tests?"

Quietly he nodded.

Softly, as if he were afraid loud noises would harm me, "Yeah. Bunch a them. An in a few weeks they'll do'a Ameno Sentese."

"Amniocentesis," I corrected, to which he nodded, "Yeah, one a those. But the baby has to be further along. The baby was why you was so sick. Not the Dengue Fever."

A snore caught my attention.

I rolled my head on the pillow and saw my father asleep on a chair in the room, at a very uncomfortable angle.

"He arrived a few hours ago," Hoot murmured.

So that's why he was being so quiet.

I rolled my head back to look at him, "Did they say how long they were keeping me?"

With a shake of his head he rested his chin on the metal rail of the bed. His rich brown eyes bore into mine, "I love you, baby."

**A little later in the day…**

I was feeling a tad better.

A little better enough to be able to sit up without a wave of nausea making me throw up. This was not a positive pregnancy sign. Very negative. Hopefully my morning sickness would not last long. It made me wonder about the mother who I never knew. What had her pregnancy been like?

There was no chance I was asking my father _ that_ question.

My father who was still on the hospital phone, yelling at some Lt. Colonel back in Washington. I didn't know and I didn't want to know what the problem was. Though there was some mention of him returning to the states ASAP.

Apparently he was not having any of it.

Hoot had left.

It hadn't been willingly.

Jeff and Griz had collected him an hour ago and they had left, gone home. Unable to stay any longer. Needing to go home for the debriefing and such, since their mission had been pretty successful.

So I flipped on the TV.

Not an easy task with three needles in one arm. But I managed. I even managed to change the channel. Damn was I good. I even managed to find "Footballers Wives," the day was looking up.

I even managed to get half the episode viewed by the time my father screamed one last profanity at this Lt. Colonel and then slammed the phone down.

Since it was a commercial I glanced over at him, "Everything ok?"

He smiled, "Just peachy, how are you feeling? Why didn't you eat that Jell-O?"

The green thing on my bed stand was Jell-O?

"You eat it," I told him.

He made a face, pulled a chair to my bedside, but didn't mention what appeared to be Jell-O. Hospital food sucked in every country I'd been in so far.

His eyes glanced over where my child was growing.

He wanted a grandchild and that was no surprise. No secret. When he looked at me there was the trace of a smile on his face. "Tonight we're going home. Your boss sent over a private jet, it'll land in three hours at Heathrow Airport."

Even though I was an adult.

A married grown woman with a great career, home, and life. I asked my father, "Are you going to be able to fly home with me?"

Gently he patted my hand that was free of needles, tape, and that irritating plastic hospital bracelet. "Of course. Do you think I'd let you go home without someone? Never. Especially not in this condition…" The phone began to ring and he held up a finger, "One minute darling."

Dad went and answered the phone, "Colonel McKnight."

I snuggled down into the bed and reached for my Gatorade.

"Yes…I need the number for one Colonel Henson…Ft. Bragg, yes, I know what he does, he's my son-in-law's CO and there is a family emergency, he won't allow my son-in-law a day to handle the matter…yes, it is a wise choice to give me the number…thank you." Dad took down a number and then laughed at whatever the person on the phone told him.

Once he hung up I asked, "Daddy, you aren't going to get Hoot in trouble are you? It's ok that he's not here. I understand why and it's ok." So I was lying about it being ok, but I really did understand.

Growing up with Dad helped me learn to understand.


	32. Chapter 32

Combating Malaria and Dengue Fever in Latin America

_Authors Note: Ok, this chapter takes place at night. Since the previous chapter took place in the morning hours, but took place in England which is a few hours ahead time wise. To avoid confusion I wanted to add that here._

**32.**

**Angela**

**May 19****th**

**Ft. Bragg.**

Gordon stared at me from where he had collapsed twenty minutes earlier after a pretty intense bout of bedroom gymnastics. He always was unable to do much more then rollover. Every once in a blue moon he could muster the strength to pull the blankets up.

I however had the strength to hop out of bed, push the cribs back into our bedroom, threw all the clothes in a hamper, went down the hall into the kitchen, washed the dishes and grabbed a soda from the fridge: A Mountain Dew.

By the time I made it back into our bedroom and plopped down on the mattress and blankets / pillows that made up our bed, Gordon managed to roll his head to the side.

I took a big sip of the soda and kissed him.

He sighed and somehow managed to form words, "So. Out of mild curiosity, where did you get that empty safe from?"

I nestled into my side of the bed and rested my bare feet on his bare thigh. "A hotel room."

Not even a flicker of surprise crossed his face.

Instead he reached for the can of soda, "So…whose room was it?" He got the soda and almost spat it out when I told him, "Sue Summers."

He coughed and managed to swallow the soda that threatened to come out his nose. When he gained control of his choking he gasped, "That reporter lady?"

"Uh-huh," I nodded.

Somehow he got strength.

My husband sat up and demanded, "How'd you find out where she was staying? Why were you in her hotel room? Coco was there too? Were the girls there?"

Ohhhh…this was why Stephanie was adamant about me not telling Gordon anything.

Damn our open trusting relationship.

I chewed on my lip.

His blue eyes narrowed, "Angela."

"Do you promise not to tell Randy or Jeff or Hoot? Or pretty much anything. Our investigation is still in the works and…"

"Investigation! What the hell have you three been up to?"

Damn, damn, damn. I ran fingers through my hair and felt my stomach knot. I could never lie that well to Gordon. But the girls were pretty adamant about me not telling him. So I asked him, "Do you promise not to talk to anyone about it?"

His eyes widened.

Ok, he wasn't going to be promising anything.

So I sighed and took back my soda. "She's writing a book about Army Wives."

"So," he spat.

"She is adding us into it."

"What do you mean us," he demanded, sitting up now.

I dropped my hands in my lap. Feeling like a little girl. A little girl in trouble, "Us. Wives of Operators. But she has really really good information. Information that could jeopardize everyone. She even knows about some of your guy's missions that we never even heard about."

Gordon shook his head.

He chewed on his lips and closed his eyes while thinking. When he opened them he told me, "The colonel would have mentioned that. He would have mentioned a possible security breach."

I shook my head.

He narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean no? Didn't you have a meeting with him today?

It was true that we had a meeting with him. But it wasn't about Sue really. "The meeting was about Laura."

Laura, whose husband had just been kicked out and sent into the 'regular' Army because she kept bragging about what he did. She was a walking and talking security threat.

Gordon processed that and was three steps ahead of me, "So the colonel doesn't even know about this book, or this information. How detailed is it? How did you three come across it?"

Crap, he wanted details.

I rubbed my forehead with the palm of my hand. I hated being the whistle blower. "Remember when Stephanie went to Target and went crazy because Sue talked to the boys?"

Gordon nodded.

"Well before she went to the police station and got the Cease and Desist Order, along with the Restraining Order…Stephanie stole her tape recorder."

Gordon motioned for me to continue.

"She's been going by Coco's house and snooping around. And she followed Humera and I to the food store the other day."

He was getting annoyed and I was trying to avoid the details. Which wasn't working that well.

"Angela. How detailed is this information?"

"I slapped her with a Cease and Desist Order too. Plus Holly is suing her so I doubt she'll break the orders. She'll go to jail."

"Angela!"

Fine!

I glared at him, I would have shouted if the babies weren't in the bedroom. "She knows everything about all of us, everyone."

For a second he was silent and then he reached for the phone. I jumped on him and grabbed the phone, then rolled off the bed and onto my knees. Like a gymnast.

Gordon stared at me like I was insane.

"Angela. I'm calling the colonel. If she knows all this stuff then there is a leak somewhere. Give me the phone."

The lump in my stomach grew.

"Does he know about the book," he asked, to which I shrugged. He took another deep breath, "So she could be getting information on other units, possibly endangering other families and ruining lives?"

She could be.

Now he was making me feel like crap. So I handed him the phone.

**Within the hour…**

Never before had I seen such quick action by the Army. After maybe five minutes of Gordon getting off the phone there was a knock on the front door. We were taken to where Gordon worked. All of us, even the girls who I wrapped up in blankets while they slept.

As we were herded, since there was no nice way of putting it, into an open top Jeep I spotted Stephanie and Randy getting the same wake-up. Randy seemed stunned as he let the uniformed Army men in his house at the unGodly hour.

The MP who was maybe twenty-one at the oldest held Whitney while Gordon helped me climb up into the Jeep.

We were then taken to the 'office' where we were ushered in and taken to a room full of tables, chairs, and a big dry erase board.

Humera and Alexandria were seated at a chair already.

At the sight or Gordon, me and the twins she was visibly relieved. But she stood up with Alexandria wrapped in a fuchsia fleece blanket, dressed in her bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, her thick black hair hung around her worried face. "What's going on? They woke me up and won't tell me anything! Is Jeff hurt?"

She also had been dragged from bed.

"No," I told her, "They found out about Sue."

Gordon didn't rat me out.

Thank God.

Maybe they would never know? Maybe he would pretend he just found out the information? I hoped so.

Behind us Stephanie and Randy entered the room. Randy held a sleeping Trey to his chest while Stephanie held Troy's hand, both were in their Batman and Superman pjs.

Stephanie hadn't even had a chance to find a robe, she still had her boxers and Randy's t-shirt.

I had refused to leave without getting dressed. It was just jeans and one of Gordon's massive sweatshirts that fit me like a sail, but I was covered.

The twenty-one year old spoke up, "Mrs. Shugghart, the colonel is on his way but he had requested you relinquish custody of the stolen recorder to us to listen to prior to his arrival."

Stephanie made a face.

Randy turned and looked at the young uniformed man, "What stolen recorder? Get away from her before I hurt you."

Oh this was going to be a long night.


	33. Chapter 33

Ohio v

**33.**

**Stephanie**

**May 19****th**

**Ft. Bragg.**

By 07:00 the room was jam packed with wives and girlfriends of Operators, and their manly counterparts. Pot after pot of coffee was prepared as everyone told the security officers about Sue Summers and her prodding into our lives, her following us constantly, and then they even took the recorder that I had rightfully stolen from her in the first place.

They even questioned the children.

When Trey and Troy had been questioned about what went on in Target, they then added that she had approached them several times as they walked home from school. As more children were questioned similar stories emerged.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this," Randy hissed.

I glared at him.

Then hissed right back, "It wasn't that big of a deal at the time."

The look he gave me was priceless. "Some reporter woman is stalking the entire unit and you don't deem that 'need to know' information?"

Our definition of 'need to know' information was clearly different. Which was obvious.

"At the time I didn't know how much she was digging," I snarled, hoping he would gather from the seriousness of my tone we were not having this chat in the middle of a room full of people.

Instead he opened his mouth the counter an argument when one of the older MPs stepped up to us. Clearly not happy about where he was. What he was doing. Or whom he was with. He looked us over, "Mr. and Mrs. Sergeant Shugghart?"

Randy gave him his attention, "Yes?"

The MP was really out of his element.

Not that I was doing any better, "Can we hurry this up? I have to work today."

A dirty look was what I got.

The MP then told Randy, "Upon a search of your house we procured the recorder. We also noticed several weapons that are property of the Army."

The weapons Randy brought home.

Randy pointed to his CO, "Take that up with the Colonel."

Mr. MP was not impressed.

He sighed deeply and looked upwards with his eyes only. As if he were getting the run-around for most the night.

**Later…**

I was late to work.

I was never late to work.

Plus I couldn't get a sitter so I brought Trey and Troy to work with me. Mind you I had brought bags of toys and snacks to keep them occupied – which worked for a good solid fifteen minutes.

Then they began to follow me around.

So I left them in Radiology with King Bob, King of the CAT scan. Within half an hour they returned with CAT scan films of their heads. Which were so going on the fridge when we got home.

After that I sent them to the cafeteria for coffee.

They came back with enough coffee to fuel rides at Six Flags for a week.

Which was how they ended up following me around the floor.

I lead them into another room.

Both on them in white lab coats with clipboards in hand. They took their own notes. "Ok boys, this is Mrs. West. Mrs. West is in here for the ninth time this month with her fifth black eye and third split lip. Her wrist has a spiral fracture and three of her ribs are broken. Can either of you tell me what a spiral fracture is?"

Troy thought about it while I checked her vitals.

Looked over her meds and gave her the daily dose for her pain.

Trey spoke up, "A fracture where it spirals like a coil?"

"Good," I told him while she looked at me with the same terrified eyes that she always had.

"Has Rick called today?"

I shrugged, "Don't know ma'am, I'm not a secretary."

Troy came to her bedside and peeked at her bandaged wrist, "How do you get a spiral fracture?"

"From someone twisting your arm really hard. Why don't you two go open the blinds in here. Some sunlight will really help."

I felt those eyes watching me.

I ignored them, I was tired of her staring at me. I had no respect for the woman. She was the same as my mother, who let my father treat her like a boxing bag for their entire marriage and still. Neither woman would leave their husbands. No matter how much I pleaded or called the cops and reported them.

"Stephanie?"

I didn't look at her. Instead I peeked in the bathroom, "You should be good to go by tomorrow. I'll have the janitorial staff send up someone to clean the bathroom."

I needed a new job.

I needed a job where I felt fulfilled.

"Mom, what's with all the visits to the hospital," Troy asked.

I so needed a new job.


	34. Chapter 34

ISI Import Substitution Industrialization

**34.**

**May 22****nd**

**Washington DC Airport.**

Stiffly, Diana grabbed her passport that was in the name of Nikki SinClair and let Wandell complain a few people behind her about having his bag searched.

They were almost home.

They were so close.

After a just utterly relaxing stay in London in the hospital and then to New York, Diana had one last connecting flight and then she would see her husband, her father, and be on a mandatory three week paid vacation. One of those weeks she was pretty sure she would be sleeping.

She grabbed her bag from the X-ray machine conveyer belt and ignored the screaming muscles in her back.

Ticket in hand, she spotted a Starbucks in sight.

"Thank you Jesus," she muttered.

And having an hour till her flight to Raleigh she was going to need a major caffeine buzz. A big one. Sure, it'd be better to drink water or juice after what she'd just been through, but, she needed that buzz.

As she crossed the busy airport in the nations capital and headed toward the coffee joint someone called her name.

"Diana! Diana Gibson!"

It took every single ounce of willpower not to turn and to keep on walking. Not to mention the training she had. With the passport in her hand naming her as someone else.

Determined she headed for coffee world, but no longer needing the buzz.

The voice was closer, "Diana Gibson?"

She was almost to the coffee place when a hand fell on her arm. Diana whipped around, her mind working a million miles an hour. She faked a look of confusion and looked over two men both in suits.

They screamed Federal Agents to her.

"Diana Gibson?"

Nikki SinClair she remembered, the passport in her pocket labeled her as a French Citizen on a work visa in Tampa Florida. A nanny. It was one of the several passports she had whilst working for her contracting company.

Confused she shook her head.

Spotting Wandell exit security and hide in the crowd, he had spotted her. She was slightly relieved.

"What's your name?"

She perfectly faked confusion, "Je suis désolé, je ne vous comprends pas."

The men shared a look.

The older one with glasses and grey hair asked, "Do you have any id?"

Diana cocked her head.

He took out his badge, a federal badge, and pointed to his id next to the badge. To which she nodded and pulled out her passport. Handing it to them, "Identification! Oui."

The younger agent with a shaved head and football players build took it, looked it over and asked, "Do you speak any English Miss. SinClair?"

Diana made a face of disgust, "Anglais! Non, une telle langue vulgaire."

After a look, the older agent again flashed his badge, "Ma'am you'll have to come with us for some questioning and to confirm your identity."

Diana pointed to the Starbucks.

"Je suis l'officier désolé. J'ai besoin du café. Je vous souhaite la chance dans votre investigation pour Diana."

For the first time a bubble of fear filled her. She couldn't be caught with a passport in another name while her prints matched up to her. Not only would she be in trouble for that, her active field status would be blown and that would be the end of that job. She needed to get away.

A plan was forming.

With a glance at Wandell she grabbed her passport back and screamed in French, "Partir! Je n'ai fait trompe rien!"

From across the way Wandell pulled the fire alarm as he walked by, hidden by the crowd.

In that initial moment of shock when both men turned she bolted, she ran into the crowd like her life depended on it. As were the other people in the crowd as the fire alarm went off.

**An hour later…**

Diana had two calls to make on the bus she was seated on to Raleigh.

She had already called Hoot to tell him she had missed her plane, and when her bus would arrive.

From the back of the near empty bus she then called her office.

"This is Diana Gibson, four four five seven nine eight two three twelve, I just had a code blue," she whispered into her cell phone.

The lady on the other end replied, "Confirmed. I'm putting you through to Aristotle, hold please."

While lovely music from Beethoven played Diana watched the countryside of Virginia roll by. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and tried hard not to fall asleep. But she really needed to know what kind of trouble she was it.

Wandell was on his way home via bus too.

On his way to Minnesota.

When Aristotle's voice came over the line a sense of relief filled Diana. "Diana, what has happened? Tell me everything."

**hours later…**

Diana stepped off the bus and spotted her husband almost immediately. He was waiting for her just like he said he would be when she called him an hour ago. When she called to let him know she'd be to Raleigh in an hour.

And when she let him know that the Georgia Police and GBI were looking for her because her fingerprints had been found on a bag that held the bloody clothing of a missing Jordanian national.

She was a _Person of Interest_.

Utterly exhausted she stepped off the bus and into Hoot's waiting embrace. He wrapped his strong arms around her and held her close. He kissed her temple and cheek and finally her lips. Then whispered against her forehead that he loved her with all his heart.


	35. Chapter 35

Ethics Assigment 2

**35.**

**Humera**

**May 19****th**

**Ft. Bragg.**

Upon returning home there was a piece of paper slid under my door. It was written in freehand and signed by Hoot.

"Imagine that," I murmured to my sleeping baby.

I set her down on the floor in her carrier and picked up the paper. Why had he slid the note under the door? Where was Jeff at? That was odd. I had left both men on the couch for the Military Marathon on the History Channel. They shouldn't have moved for anything less then a real war.

Sadly, when I glanced over Hoot's letter I understood why. My heart skipped a beat and I had to sit down on the floor to read it, or I would have fallen over.

Hoot had scribbled the note, obviously in a hurry. The man normally had very nice script.

_Humera,_

_Went to the bus station in Raleigh to pick Diana up. The authorities in GA have found the bag Diana hid. Her prints were identified as were the bloody clothes. Jeff knows and is at the office, he'll call Gordon and Randy. Stay on base and don't answer the phone or door unless you know who it is. __Burn this note__._

_Hoot_

I promptly climbed to my feet, ran to the kitchen, and promptly vomited in the wastebasket.

This was just horrible.

I clung to the basket as I took deep gasping breaths and slid to the floor. When I put my hand to my temple there was a cold clammy sweat shinned on my skin. Which would be fear and guilt.

If we got caught it would be horrible. We would go to jail. Our children would be motherless.

I needed to speak to Jeff. I needed to hear his voice.

Once I cleaned my face and drank a glass of water, locked the front door and moved Alexandria into her crib I called his cell phone.

On the fourth ring he picked up, "Humera, I'm glad you called, did you get Hoot's note?"

"Yes. Why are you at the office. I need you here, love."

There was the slight edge of panic in my voice and there was good reason for there to be. Jeff sensed it and managed to calm me down, "I'll be home soon. I'm waiting to speak with an Army lawyer. Once I do I'll be home. Nothing bad will happen darling. Trust me."

Ok.

While I trusted him I was still a tad bit worried.

"Darling, is Alexandria there?"

"Yes."

"Good. Why don't you make yourself some tea. Watch some CNN. I will be there as soon as I get some answers."

That seemed reasonable.

Which was one of the things that drew me to Jeff. He was so level headed no matter what was going on, or wrong in my life. I loved that about him. I always had and I always would.

After I took a deep calming breath I replied, "Ok. I will make tea. Read the mail. And I will wait as patiently as I can manage." Then I hung up the phone and had the sudden urge to rip it from the wall and hurl it through the window.

However I did not.

That would wake Alexandria who was as light a sleeper as her father.

I went about preparing tea.

Jeff knew me quite well, the ceremony of it calmed me. While the water boiled I flipped through the letters that were neatly stacked upon the kitchen counter. Junk, bill, bill, flyer, letter from penpal, and a letter from the local college.

I dropped the pile and opened the letter.

The paper was quite ornate.

It was from the Dean of the College.

My eye skimmed the letter and caught bits of pieces. 'Received your application for the position as Professor of English Literature and World Literature…' 'would be honored to have a meeting with you to discuss your application…' 'it would be such an honor for this university to have a scholar of your level on our faculty…'

There were several numbers to call, one belonging to the Dean himself.

Perhaps I would have a job as a professor.

After all I had my doctorate in English and World Literature from Oxford. I had finished it up while recuperating from my injuries and waiting for my citizenship papers to clear.

I read over the paper again to be sure that it was indeed real. Then I tucked it back into the envelope and went on preparing my tea.


	36. Chapter 36

Drugs Final

**36.**

**Coco**

**May 19****th**

**Ft. Bragg.**

Hans, Sven, and Olaf sat so patiently while Trey and Troy tried their hardest to open the container of Randy's tennis balls to play fetch with them. I wasn't even sure that they knew that game.

"They are a breeze to take care of. Dinner around five, homework till eight when they can watch an hour of TV or play outside. If they play with their paintball guns make sure they wear protective gear." Stephanie was telling me as she got ready to go over to Angela's house and then to Humera's. Something was going on.

Whatever it was was serious.

And whatever it was they were keeping it to themselves.

"John said he'd swing by with some pizza. Is that ok?"

Stephanie nodded, "That's fine. Do you need some money to give him?"

She was flustered.

She hadn't changed out of her scrubs and she couldn't find her house keys, which were on a hook on the wall.

I patted her arm and pointed to the keys, "Don't worry about it."

Being Stephanie she gave me a brilliant smile. Ran her slim fingers through her hair and grabbed the house keys.

I had my own set.

"Go take care of whatever you're freaking out over. You're a mess girl."

"Tell me about it," she muttered as she kissed the twins goodbye and hurried out. The garage door closed and I watched her run across the street to Angela's house. I waited a good ten minutes before Angela and Stephanie walked out of the house.

Angela's twins were sleeping in their portable basinet in the living room.

I then turned to Trey and Troy, "So what's going on?"

In a very rehearsed manner Trey told me, "Mom and Auntie Angela are working on their taxes."

Perfect.

He'd be good to go if anyone asked.

I sighed, "Troy?"

In an excited conspiratorial tone he clapped, "I think they're covering up a crime! All of them are meeting like they did before we moved back here from Georgia."

I liked this kid.

He would be a great one when he reached adulthood.


	37. Chapter 37

Study Guide Chapter 20 -- The Death Penalty, the Ultimate Right

**37.**

**May 19****th**

**Ft. Bragg and beyond.**

Hoot sat on the couch in Jeff's house between Diana and Stephanie, while Jeff explained what he had learned from his huge chair that doubled as a loveseat, but matched the rug in the center of the room wonderfully.

"…and from what he told me without a body they have very little. All they have is a blurry videotape of his assaulting two women, and then the time loop cuts off for five minutes and then everyone is gone. This bag of bloody clothing in a ER can be explained."

Hoot made a face that Jeff had seen many times before. Diana patted his thigh, "Baby, he's right. I can explain it away. I'm a great liar."

From across the room Gordon and Randy shared a look. Both men had come dressed in BDUs and smelling of sweat and gunpowder: smelling of training.

Randy inquired, "What about the cop who knows about Humera?"

Heads looked to Humera.

Jeff spoke up in defense of his wife who stood behind his chair. Her third mug of hot tea in hand. "All her papers are real there is nothing he can do about her being here. Not to mention if he pokes around too much the CIA will come down on him. She's an asset to them, she knows to much for them to ignore a threat to their intelligence."

"He can still make a fuss and her family in Jordan could find out where she is," Diana countered.

Again there was agreement in the living room.

"Bitter family should never be disregarded," Angela added softly.

Silence filled the room for a few moments till Diana asked, "The body definitely won't be found."

Both Gordon and Randy shook their heads.

She then turned to Hoot, "Then we should have no problem at the police department." She patted his thigh and stood, "I will go call them now and play dumb. Ask what I am needed for questioning about and bring Hoot. Between the two of us I can probably evade arrest." At that Diana went off to go call the police station from the bedroom on her cell phone. Hoot dropped his face in his hands and began to pray to God.

"How did this evidence even come about," Gordon quietly asked, standing as close to his wife as he could manage without clinging to her. Which was really all he really wanted to do. However, it would not have been the adult thing to do at that time.

The answer came from the woman he stood so close to, "Wasn't the hospital going through the biohazard stuff to find a hand that had gotten tossed on accident?"

Jeff nodded in affirmation.

**Later that day…**

It had been a slow day in the police station when Diana and Hoot strolled in the front door. Both looked around the small waiting area and then swiftly strolled to the front desk where a beefy man in uniform sat. The epitome of every stereotypical police officer known to man, complete with coffee and doughnut.

Diana looked at the case of seized drug paraphernalia on the wall while Hoot asked of the man, "My wife here is wanted for questin'in bout som'in in Georgia. She called a lil bit'ago an they said to come on down."

The cop narrowed his eyes, "What did you say son?"

Diana rolled her eyes.

She looked to the secretary, "Diana Gibson, I'm here to speak with someone from Georgia."

With a distrustful look the cop hit the intercom.

Diana glared at Hoot knowing he spoke better English then that when he wanted. He however peeked around the room. Looking for an exit if things went bad.

When the cop finished speaking with the person on the intercom he asked, "Do either of y'all have any weapons on your persons or in your purse?"

Diana shook her head, "No sir."

Hoot shook his head, "I don't need a gun."

With a deep breath she smiled brightly at the officer. Who buzzed them in. A door opened which they went through and were greeted by an officer, who then took them to his desk.

Detective Harris.

A skinny male from Chile whose clothing hung off him, but kind none-the-less.

When both Diana and Hoot were seated he asked, "Could I get you some coffee or a soda while we wait? Detective Marten should be here any minute."

"He's the detective from Georgia," Diana asked.

"Yes ma'am. He has a few routine questions about the evidence you handled and that's it. You two have been very difficult to track down. The Army was not very helpful at all."

Diana and Detective Harris looked to Hoot.

Diana wondering how he would answer and Harris waiting for an answer. Hoot slouched back and shrugged, "You know the Army. They can ship gun's anywhere withouta hitch, paperwork is another story."

Harris laughed.

Then Diana followed and Hoot smiled. "Will this take long? My baby here is expectin and she just gits so worn out, we'd like to get home soon as possible."

With a quick nod Harris stood.

"Of course of course, congratulations…and here he is just arriving."

Diana glanced over her shoulder, Hoot mirrored her but more casually. Glancing over at the cop and sizing him up, determining the man's potential danger to his wife and unborn child.

**Meanwhile…**

"What is this?"

Humera glanced up from where she was putting away a pot beneath the sink, Jeff held her letter from the college.

"I was offered a job, darling."

Humera sighed and reached for a spatula to hang on its wall hook, "I'm not sure. Once this cloud passes I will be sure."  
He opened the envelope and read the letter. Softly rocking their daughter while she slept on his muscular chest. Curled up against his familiar warmth and smell.

She had woken up when Gordon and Angela had left to go get take-out for the group while the awaited the return of Hoot and Diana.

Stephanie and Randy had stayed in the living room where they whispered in hushed tones to each other. Whispering over the beeping of Stephanie's beeper that was attached to her scrub pants.

**Meanwhile…**

Coco stood in the doorway of Stephanie and Randy's house with her arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow cocked and eyes suspicious. "What's your name again and how do you know Stephanie?"

Mrs. West as she called herself looked like she had stepped out of a Rocky movie. As well as being dressed in a hospital gown and had that deer in a head light look about her. Coco eyed her with more the unease.

Not sure if she had runaway from the hospital or escaped from a padded cell.

Her Jamaican grandmother had raised her right.

"Please…I need to speak with her, I'm begging you to let me in. I've been paging her for the past twenty minutes and she won't return my call."

"Right…let me call her, you stay here."

Stephanie's patient was not having any of it. She pushed her way in and Coco screamed, she grabbed the woman by her dressing gown and shouted for John. All while Trey and Troy watched from the back of the couch, their little heads peeking over.

The woman clung to Coco, "You have to call Stephanie. You have to help me before he finds me."


	38. Chapter 38

It was past late, it was bor

**38.**

**Diana.**

**May 25****th**

**Ft. Bragg.**

**A few days later…**

Hoot made a face at the gloop Dr. Ferdinand squirted on my flat stomach, and I tried not to hiss.

It was cold and nasty.

But whatever, I was going to get to see the baby. The baby that took forever to conceive. Which meant it'd be the future ruler of the world or something great like that.

Hoot looked at me. From his look alone there was a joke on the tip of his tongue. Being in the throes of morning sickness, I was in no hurry to hear it. So I casually observed, "Is that the same stuff the Army uses for your physical."

The look vanished from his face.

Replaced with the look of horror that was there after the Army doctor violated him, "That ain't funny."

Dr. Ferdinand ignored us and began to roll the wand over my stomach.

I inquired, "Does that stuff wash off? Cause I have a silk shirt on doc."

If it had been up to me I would have had someone else do it, but he was the only person available and we weren't close to say the least.

My innards appeared on the monitor and the doctor, in record time, found the baby, "See. Look. There's your baby. I'll print you off a copy and you can be on your way."

He could kiss my ass.

I leant forward and looked at the little baby, which was the size of a cherry at best. I looked at my child. "Make two copies…I need one for my Dad. Can you do color?"

He was silent.

He really didn't like me.

I looked over my shoulder at Hoot, who was gone.

When I peered over the edge of the hospital bed. Hoot was on the floor in a pile. Great. He see's his unborn child and faints. But at the sight of combat, or even lying to the police with me to get us off the hook with Georgia authorities he calm.

Purely amazing.


End file.
